Keeping Things Casual
by ashortpath
Summary: It was his idea to keep things casual.
1. Chapter 1

Arnold Phillip Shortman was a man of routine. There was something relaxing about repetition, especially with the chaotic schedule of being a college junior. He allowed more deviation with his personal life, not planning everything which is often how he ended up in predicaments, much like his current one.

It was 2:30 AM and Arnold was sweaty, naked, and staring at his plain white bedroom ceiling to avoid looking over at _her_. She had fallen asleep a while ago, her steady breathing the only sound in the quiet room, like white noise gently lulling him to sleep. He looked over, his emerald eyes trailing down her spine before it was hidden by the thin white sheet, pausing briefly before moving back up, landing on the small musical tattoo on her right shoulder blade, the colors fading slightly.

He turned to look at the ceiling, sighing as he ran his right hand through his unruly blonde hair, pushing the damp pieces out of his eyes and off his forehead. He wasn't supposed to be falling for her, keeping it casual had been his idea but here he was. They were just "releasing tension", but even he could see how thin of an excuse that had been. He rolled over, pushing his left hand under his pillow and closed his eyes, praying that she would stay out of his dreams.

 **Three Months Ago**

"You know what we should do," Arnold said, breaking the silence that had surrounded the two college students for the past half hour. He was briefly distracted, finishing his last Calculus problem before straightening up, stretching both arms above his head, the edge of his teal t-shirt raising slightly. He slouched back against the wall, waiting for her response, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Hmmm?" she replied, distracted by the English assignment appearing slowly on her laptop. Her fingers moved quickly across the keyboard as her eyes followed the cursor flowing steadily on the screen. She wasn't paying attention, he could tell by the way she bit her lip in deep concentration. He didn't know why she was concentrating so hard, she was an excellent writer and English was her favorite and best subject.

Arnold shook his head in amusement, moving to lay horizontal across the end of his bed, his chest hanging off the edge. He moved so his lips were close to her right ear, barely touching the outer shell as he lowered his voice. "We should _fuck_."

He almost laughed at how suddenly her fingers stopped, hovering over the keyboard as she stared hard at the screen, as if her response was hidden somewhere between the lines of her _Pride and Prejudice_ essay. She finally shook her head, a smile appearing on her lips as she rolled her eyes, her fingers and train of thought continuing where they had left off. "Sure."

"Sure?" Arnold replied, his voice confused mixed with disbelief, his eyes wide as he stared at her sideways figure. He didn't know why, but that four letter word made blood rush to his lower region. Laying on his stomach quickly became uncomfortable, so he dragged himself off the bed, landing beside her with an ungraceful thud. He sat so his back was against the bed, mimicking her position as he brought his legs to his chest, hoping to hide his growing problem. "Did you hear what I said?" he asked, his voice ragged.

"Something about us fucking, yeah?" she replied distractedly, her focus more on her paper than him. _Calm down. Focus. She's just doing this to get a rise out of you._ He was brought out of his thoughts by her piercing stare, eyebrow quirked, held tilted to the right, a smirk on her soft lips. "Right?"

"Yeah," Arnold breathed, hating how breathless and affected his voice sounded. His right hand ran through his unruly blonde hair as his head fell backwards against the bed. _If she wants to tease, two can play at that game_. He heard a light buzz, opening his eyes to watch her reach down to grab her phone resting against her right thigh. She smiled, shaking her head as she typed out a quick reply. He had a second to make a decision. It took him half a second.

He reached over, her focus still on her phone, thumb rubbing the smooth edge of her phone and grabbed her chin, not hard but enough to make her look at him. "I'm going to kiss you now," Arnold stated, already, leaning in without giving her a chance to respond.

He only meant for it to be a brief chaste kiss, but the minute his lips touched hers, his eyes instinctively closed and his mind shut down. It was a chaste kiss but he was craving more.

He pulled away, hand still firmly on her chin, eyes still closed. He heard her softly moan, the sound shooting straight to his chest. He counted to ten slowly before opening his eyes. She still had her eyes closed, left hand touching her lips while her right gripped her phone, the screen shut off from not being used. She opened her eyes, questions and confusion ever present but she remained silent, watching Arnold.

He had to say something, to tell her it was just a joke, but instead he leaned forward for another kiss. His right arm wrapped around her waist whilst his left saved, shut, and lowered her laptop gently to the floor.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, eyes closing as he pulled her close, He smiled, leaning forward so their foreheads touched. She brought her hands to rest on his forearms, squeezing slightly.

"I don't know," Arnold whispered, his lips curling into a smile. "But, tell me to stop and I will." His lips were inches from hers as he waiting for her to say something. Stop. Get away. Come closer. A little voice told him this was payback. The louder voice told him he _wanted this_. Everything suddenly went quiet as her long fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

"You should figure that out then," she laughed, lips in a smile as she shook her head, reaching past him for her laptop.

"Whatever you say, Helga," Arnold laughed, catching her arm and bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss.

* * *

It's been a while, but I'm back! There will be a poll on my account about whether or not this story should be left as a one-shot or made into a multi-chapter story. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated! Thank you, much!

Lovelyseoul21


	2. Chapter 2

Another chapter, yay! There are some adult themes in this chapter and there will be more explicit ones in the future. I'll be sure to write a warning/reminder on those chapters. I hope you enjoy the next chapter. Thanks for reading and the lovely comments! I appreciate them all!

Lovelyseoul21

* * *

Arnold immediately craved _more_. His eyes closed tightly, as if opening them would shatter this already fragile illusion. His tongue brushed against her bottom lip, silently begging for entrance. She complied with his demand with a soft moan that made him _melt_. He wished he could record her intoxicating sounds, constantly having them play on repeat.

The calloused fingers of his right hand traced up her arm, leaving goosebumps in their path as he squeezed her shoulder, lingering for her to feel the warmth of his fingers before trailing lazily to rest against the small of her back. He pulled her impossibly closer, although there was still too much _damn room_ between them. His left arm braced behind him against the rug, the muscles in his bicep bulging slightly. He didn't follow a strict workout routine, hitting the gym when he had time but he knew a routine he wouldn't mind _doing_ every single day and it involved a certain blonde. He experimentally bit her bottom lip, his lips curling into a smirk as she gasped, following him greedily as he pulled away slightly. Her skilled fingers drew lazy patterns up his arms, smirking as he took a shaky breath before her fingers tangled in his blonde hair, pulling at the roots causing him to pull away from her bruised, sore lips.

Arnold continued to kiss an imaginary line from her lips to the soft skin behind her right ear, alternating between biting and soothing the skin with his tongue. He hadn't found the right place to _leave his mark_ , but like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly, he found a spot that caused her head to roll back, exposing her creamy neck. He left butterfly kisses down her neck, stopping at her collar bone, the perfect spot. He bit down hard, causing her to moan and her nails to dig into his scalp. He bit and sucked until dark purple blotches lined the curve of her collar bone.

Arnold pulled back, extremely turned on by how hot _his_ hickey looked against the light pink fabric of her t-shirt. His fingers gripped her hips, brushing under the hem of her t-shirt as he pulled her to lay down with him. She briefly let go, swinging her left leg over his body so she was straddling his hips just above the bulge in his jeans but low enough that when she leaned forward, her ass would brush against it. She tested this, placing both hands on his chest and biting her bottom lip as he made the most animalistic growl. She could feel his erratic heartbeat under her fingers as they made eye contact, her ocean blue eyes cloudy with lust and his emeralds shining bright with _something_ she's never seen before.

Something in him snapped as he slid an arm around her waist, holding her tightly to him as he swung their bodies so her back was against the rug and he was hovering above her, just out of her reach. He smirked at her shocked expression, wondering when he became so _dominant_. He leaned down to kiss her, his left hand holding up his weight as his right teased the edge of her jeans, his fingers grazing the top of her silk fucking underwear. His lips were inches from hers when she whispered his name; soft, breathless but enough to remind him who _she_ was. Who _they_ were.

His hands separated from her body like he'd been burned, the force causing him to land on his butt as he took deep, heavy breaths. He blinked a few times, trying to wake himself up from this fucked up illusion but each time, he kept staring at a confused and hurt Helga. _Fuck_.

"Arnold?" Helga whispered, reaching to touch his shoulder, stopping when he flinched away. She felt like throwing up, like someone had punched her repeatedly in the stomach, even when she was down. She watched as he looked out the window, at his bookshelf, at an imaginary spot on his rug, anywhere but at her. _Could you only touch me if you imagined I was someone else?_ Instead she said, "Talk to me. _Please_?" She was begging him and it was slowly killing him. He ran his right hand through his unruly blonde hair, the ghost feeling of her fingers tangled in that exact spot flooded his mind causing him to flinch, moving to rub his hands down his face instead.

"This never happened," Arnold started, his words slow, delivering each blow with false absolution. His brain told him to shut up and stop thinking but his mouth continued to function without a command. He could see her shutting down, moving to lean against the bed, knees drawn to her chest, forehead resting against the harsh fabric of her jeans with her arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. _You fucked up, just stop and tell her to leave. You can fix this_ , some sane part of his brain reasoned. "It was a moment of weakness, "heat of the moment" if you will. It won't happen again, I'm sorry." _You're a fucking idiot,_ his brain and heart yelled, drowned out by the echoing of his damning words.

He waited for her reaction, for her to scream how much she hated him, to hit him, slap him, yell. He didn't expect silence. The woman who had stood beside him through his _entire_ life, especially the shitty times was slipping away and it was his own _damn_ fault. He reached out to touch her, comfort her, stopping when he decided it was best to give her space. She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze, the mystery, warmth, and laughter usually radiating from her ocean blue eyes were gone. .

"Are we good?" Arnold asked, careful to swallow the hope threaten to leak into his voice. _No_ , the childish voice yelled but she nodded and smiled.

Helga gathered her laptop before looking up at Arnold, standing awkwardly with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll catch you later," she said, proud of how stable she sounded when her world was anything but. She walked out the door, telling herself not to look back as she walked down the hall to her room. If only they weren't roommates.

Four Days Later

Helga changed her whole routine to avoid Arnold. She rode her bike to and from campus, studied in the library and avoided all meals. Phoebe was getting suspicious but Arnold didn't notice, she was grateful for him being dense sometimes. She knew she said everything was good, but she needed space. She needed time.

One Week Later

"What's going on between you and Pataki?" Gerald asked, leaning against the counter in his flannel bottoms and grey v-neck sleeping shirt. He noticed Arnold's head shoot up, his eyes shining for half a second before returning to their recent dull shade. He had an idea of what happened between the two blondes but it was impossible to get them in the same room. It had caused a major rift in the apartment dynamic and was eventually going to cause major, irreparable damage. He took a large bite of cereal, chewing slowly as he waited for whatever bullshit response he _knew_ he was going to get.

"Nothing," Arnold replied, sitting at the island with a piece of toast, currently suspended in mid-air as he tapped a command in Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery, his character currently getting stopped by Snape. _Again_. He tried a lot of things this week to get his mind off of her. Nothing was working. This was attempt 30. He took a bite, followed by a long swig of coffee, hoping to evade this conversation for as long as possible. "Why?"

Gerald chose his next words carefully. "Because something _happened_ between you two a week ago and now it's messing up our group dynamic."

Arnold groaned. Either Gerald noticed it or Phoebe had told him. Bright side, he wasn't crazy and _imaging_ her avoiding him. "We kissed, things turned _heavy_ , we panicked and chalked it up to "heat of the moment"," Arnold replied. The glare on Gerald's face told him he was less than pleased.

Gerald set his dish in the sink, walked up to the other side of the island, placed both hands on the cool granite surface and leveled with his best friend. It was too _damn_ early for this shit.

"Did _she_ say that or did _you_?" Gerald asked slowly. He wasn't mentally or physically prepared for this conversation.

"I said it," Arnold answered. He was hesitant but it was best to be truthful and get the help, or beating he deserved. He could still see the way her face scrunched in disgust, haunting him everywhere. The shower, his dreams, daydreams, and recently had become a recurring nightmare.

"Sometimes I swear to God…." Gerald mumbled, walking around the island, smacking him upside the head before pulling out a stool and sitting down.

"I deserved that," Arnold winced, rubbing the sore spot on his head. "I just wish Helga had some sort of reaction."

"What did she do?" Gerald sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. This was the indicator of how bad everything truly was.

"She was silent, packed up her things, told me she'd "see me around" and left," Arnold winced, remembering how much he vomited that night, drowned in vodka, the only sound was him retching into the porcelain bowl and the light hum of the fan in the bathroom. Gerald found him a half an hour later. The next morning, hangover in full swing, Arnold swore off alcohol. Gerald shook his head as he gave him a glass of water, some Advil, and a piece of bread.

"Yeah, that wasn't a good night," Gerald sighed, cringing at how he babysat his crying, drunk friend while listening to him half explain how he "fucked up with a girl".

"I never thanked you," Arnold started, cut off by Gerald waving his hand.

"I got you," Gerald held up his hand, his half of their secret, not so secret handshake. Arnold held up his hand, smiling briefly before staring down at his now cold coffee and toast.

"I panicked and fucked up. Bad. I thought pretending like it never happen would fix things, allow things to go back to normal but it's been a week and I'm dying without her. She's oxygen and I feel like I'm suffocating." Arnold let his head hang in his hands.

"Maybe this is a good thing," Gerald hummed, his attention momentarily taken by Sports Center.

"Oh?" Arnold said, waving a hand in front of Gerald's face. "Do share.".

"You always were a **bold** **kid** , now you can be a bold **adult**. You can fix this, it just depends on how much you _want_ to."

"What are you suggesting?" Arnold asked, hesitant as he met Gerald's eyes. There was a certain twinkle that he wasn't fond of.

Gerald laughed, placing both hands on the countertop as he pushed himself up. "Be passionate." He clapped Arnold on the shoulder, pushed in his stool and headed to his room, the door shutting behind him with a small hoped that Arnold was brave enough to fix this but also smart enough to _know_ how.

"Be passionate," Arnold hummed, looking over his left shoulder at Helga's closed bedroom door.


	3. Chapter 3

She overslept. She _fucking_ overslept. _Fuck_. Helga rolled onto her naked back, her bare legs tangling in the soft, familiar white sheets. Her hands reached behind her head to grab her memory foam pillow, the one in the faded pink pillowcase that smelled like Gain, and pulled it over her face. She screamed in frustration, the sound muffled by her pillow, until her lungs burned and her face was red and hot. Then she screamed some more.

Helga had been so careful at avoiding Arnold the past two weeks. She left the apartment before the sun was up, took roundabout routes to classes to avoid running into Arnold or Gerald, and taking all possible closing shifts at her waitressing job at Slaussen's. She packed a lunch and dinner every day and spent her free time hiding in the back corner of the library studying, writing, or reading. She was only at the apartment for sleeping and showering and Phoebe and Gerald were starting to notice. She would face everyone eventually, she just needed time. Which apparently she _just_ ran out of.

Helga thought through some options, even debating jumping out her bedroom window which was a stupid idea since their apartment was on the fourth floor. She could email her professors and call her manager, telling them she was "sick". _No, you have that project due for Nonfiction and Creative Writing today that is worth three-fourths of your final grade. And you close tonight. Damnit._ She hit her mattress in frustration. She was out of options, or options that she _liked_.

Her phone buzzed against the wood of her bedside table, a new text message. There were only five people that would want her attention this early in the morning, three of which were in rooms separated from by thin plaster walls. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before reaching over to grab her phone, she peeked with one eye. She was never more relieved to see the name _Pheebs_ pop up.

 **P: Morning. Are you still here? I didn't hear the door close this morning. Everything okay?**

Phoebe. God, they'd been friends their whole life, inseparable and extremely protective of each other, even as kids. Honesty, Phoebe was the sister Olga never could be. She loved Olga and she was _family_ , but years of living in her shadow made it difficult for her to feel anything other than resentment. She used to wonder if she was defective to any emotion other than anger or resentment. She got really lucky with her current group of friends. Helga rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm before typing a response, hitting the screen forcefully, each letter resulting in a dull thud.

 **H: Fucking overslept. Thinking about scaling out the window. Not a bad idea, yeah?**

She tossed her phone on the bed, sitting up to stretch, letting the sheet pool to her waist. She didn't normally sleep naked but she got home at 2 AM from her waitressing job and was exhausted. She spotted her uniform, wrinkled on the floor from last night and reached over the edge to grab it, using minimal effort as possible. She was struggling when her phone dinged, another message from Phoebe. She decided it was a good time for a break.

 **P: Don't be ridiculous. Knowing your luck you'd break both ankles and be on apartment lock-down. With crutches. And stuck in this apartment for God knows how long. I know you need time, but it's been two weeks. You're going to have to talk to him sooner or later. (Sooner is always better).**

Helga rolled her eyes in frustration, hating how she was _usually_ right. Phoebe had stood by her since the first night of this whole mess, providing ice cream, movies and even staying in her room for the night. Gerald had joked the next morning that she had stolen his girlfriend and he wanted her back. But as the weeks progressed, she could see Phoebe and Gerald getting more and more annoyed with the blondes at the lack of progress to fix this. Helga was coping by ignoring the problem (Arnold) and Arnold was letting her. The stress was taking a toll on everybody in the apartment and it was spreading the gang. Nobody knew the specifics, but they all had pretty decent guesses. Everyone was getting close to the point of locking the blondes in a closet until this whole mess got fixed.

Helga put her phone down without sending a reply and started getting dressed; enjoying that she actually had _time_. She'd always enjoyed mornings, even as a kid. There was something calming about a cup of tea and some needed alone time. She found her favorite pink and blue striped button-down, rolling the sleeves exactly five times to her elbows before buttoning the front, leaving the top three open. She looked herself over in her full length hanging door mirror before pulling on her favorite pair of jeans. She was tying her Converse when her phone chimed again.

 **P: Come have breakfast and tea. Please? I made a pot of Chamomile tea and am making your favorite breakfast food.**

Helga sighed, something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately. She couldn't avoid him forever. _Right_?

 **H: Sure. Be out in a bit**

The whoosh sound felt just as damning and final as her words, bringing her closer to a confrontation she wasn't mentally, physically, or emotionally ready for. She slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, stuffed her books and uniform into her pink messenger bag and stared at herself in the mirror. _He's moved on. So should you._

* * *

Arnold wasn't sure what to expect when he saw Helga again, hell he thought he'd have a few more weeks to figure out how the hell he was going to fix this fucking mess. But _no_ , she was standing in front of him; the only barrier between them was the island, as she leaned against a counter in the kitchen. The brim of her white coffee mug rested against her chin, her head thrown back mid laugh at a joke Gerald said. It momentarily looked and felt like everything was normal. Like she hadn't spent the past two weeks avoiding him like the plague. Gerald kicked his shin under the counter, bringing him back to the conversation.

"How've you been?" Gerald asked, taking a sip of coffee as he waited for an answer. He knew he was making a stressful situation worse but he wasn't fond of how many eggshells everyone seemed to be walking on lately. Arnold looked down at his plate, unsure if he wanted to hear her answer.

"I've been," Helga answered, stirring the spoon in her tea, the small clinking noises oddly calming her.

The kitchen fell silent. Gerald walked over to Phoebe, watching her flip a pancake before kissing her gently on the shoulder. He leaned against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed. Helga focused on the small waves she was making with her tea, while Phoebe switched between watching Helga and Arnold.

Helga felt foreign, self-conscious and frustrated in her own home and she hated it. _**He**_ _wanted to pretend like nothing happened._ _ **He**_ _started this mess. But_ _ **I**_ _was the one that said everything was good._ She was arguing with herself and it was exhausting. She'd been through the same argument a multitude of times, trying to justify her frustration and actions and she just couldn't do it anymore. She finished her now cold tea, thanked Phoebe for the breakfast she never ate, and patted Gerald on the forearm. She saw Arnold was looking at her, a weird glint in his eye but she didn't care, she _couldn't_ care and headed for the door.

She wasn't weak, just extremely good at running away from her problems and confrontation. The fingers of her right hand gripped the door handle when she felt a rough hand gently catch her left wrist. She froze. Her knee jerk reaction was to snatch her wrist away and continue walking but instead, she waited. _What are you waiting for?_

"Can we talk?" His voice was quiet and dull, such a contrast to his normal optimistic voice that she became accustomed to for the majority of her life. "Please?" She didn't turn around.

"About?" She dragged out the vowels, making her sound indifferent about the conversation, even if she was anything but. Her heart screamed _run_. Run as far as she could, take a bus, and never look back. But there was too much keeping her here. She heard him sigh and could already imagine his fingers running through his blonde hair. It was a frequent habit of his.

"In private," His voice raised a bit at the end, as if it was posing as a question and not the most logical answer. It made her heart jump. She _hated_ it.

"About?" She repeated, her indifferent attitude cracking slightly. She needed better control. She forced a cough.

"Please," he was begging and she couldn't enjoy it. This whole conversation was making her feel miserable. _Because you're weak_. "Can we talk somewhere," He looked behind him at Phoebe and Gerald who weren't hiding the fact that they were listening. "Without an audience?" She felt her heart clench and her immediate reaction was disgust towards herself.

Arnold would never tell but he would listen for the loose floorboard in the hallway to squeak when she left in the mornings or for her muttering at night when she hit her knee against the glass table _every night_. He wondered if she thought he was still _so_ dense. And maybe he was.

"Why?" Helga snapped her resolve breaking as she snatched her wrist away from his grip. His hand fell limply to his side from the force, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. "What can't you say in front of our _friends_?" It was cruel, but she was using that word against him. She didn't initially mean for all of her confused and frustrated emotions to become so bitter, but he kept pushing and pushing. _Drop it. Please._

 _Fine, we'll have this conversation here_. "If everything is _really_ okay..." He heard the accusatory tone leak into his voice but he couldn't stop, he _needed_ answers. "Then why have you been avoiding me?" She wiped a tear that threatened to fall, grateful that she hadn't faced him.

"What did you expect to happen after you _kissed_ me?" Her voice was just as venomous and it felt _fucking amazing_. This release was weeks overdue. "How did you expect me to react when you acted like nothing _happened_ then asked if we were "good"? Did you think everything was going to be _fucking dandy_?"

She was yelling and crying and it felt both freeing and damning. She hated how Arnold could bring out these two conflicting emotions and she hated how it felt like he _cornered_ her. Arnold jerked his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry," Arnold whispered, clenching his nails into his palm until he winced in pain. He knew he drew blood but he didn't care. She had always been better at English and right now, he was extremely jealous. He just needed to make her _understand_. He continued. "I panicked. I can't explain why I kissed you or allowed things to go that far but I _wanted_ it."

Helga spun on her heel, facing him with eyes mixed with confusion and suspicion. "You wanted it?" It sounded like some sick game and she didn't want to play.

"Yes, I _wanted_ to continue, but I can't explain _why_ ," Arnold emphasized.

"Was it because the girl you were imaging disappeared on you and left _me_ behind?" Helga bit back. She wished she could slap him and tell him where he could shove his _why_ and shitty explanation but she didn't have the energy. This conversation was taking a lot. They were going in circles, she was going to be late for class, and all she wanted was to crawl back in bed and sleep. Today was already a long day and she still had classes and a closing shift.

"What image?" Arnold asked, his mind searching their conversation for any mention of "another girl". His right hand rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. His palms were dripping with sweat.

"Isn't that why you pulled away when you heard _my_ voice?" Helga asked, her eyes searching his. Arnold ran a hand down his face and took a step closer to her, grateful she didn't step away.

"No," Arnold answered honestly, his voice pleading but also exhausted. "I don't know _why_ I pulled away. But, I know for sure that I want that same passion we had that day and to build on the passion we've _always_ had but maybe put it into something casual." He looked up at the ceiling, cringing inwardly at how horny and stupid that sounded. "We can start slow and see what happens from there."

Arnold was met with silence, which could mean anything good or bad. Helga looked at him, her face distorting momentarily in disgust. "So all I am to you is a fuck buddy?" Helga asked her voice more level than anybody was expecting. Her eyes gleamed with something that neither Gerald nor Phoebe could explain.

"Yes and no," Arnold said, watching her raise an eyebrow before he quickly tried to explain. _Insert foot into fucking mouth_. "Yes, we'd be fuck buddies but we'd be more than that. It wouldn't be just sex but it wouldn't be dating. No strings, no catching feelings but we'll do dinners and movies and shit. If you're having a bad day, I'd be there and vice versa."

Helga looked at the green numbers on the stove, the time reading 8:10. Her class was at 9 and she had a 20 minute walk plus she still needed breakfast. She readjusted the strap of her messenger back over her shoulder before running a hand through her hair. She didn't have the time or energy to think about it right now.

"I'll think about it, alright?" Helga sighed, wanting to be done with this conversation.

"Alright," Arnold answered, stuffing one hand into the pocket of his jeans. Helga was full of surprises and this time was no different. He wasn't positive on an answer either way and that honestly excited him. He did a small wave as she disappeared down the hallway, the door closing with a small click behind her.

* * *

I'm really sorry for the delay, I started a new job and am working full time, which means ALL DAY, EVERY DAY. I'm not 100% sure how I feel about this chapter, I've written and re-written it like fifteen times. Let me know what you guys think. Thank you for your support and comments and everything in-between! If I keep this chapter, the next one will be passionate and JUICY.

Lovelyseoul21


	4. Chapter 4

THIS CHAPTER HAS A LOT OF DETAILED SMUT. PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS IF YOU CHOOSE TO READ. IF YOU WANT TO SKIP THE SMUT, THEN PLEASE GO TO THE SECOND LINE BREAK. THANK YOU!

* * *

Red, glowing numbers glared at Arnold from his digital clock, the time reading 2 AM. He rubbed his eyes for the umpteenth time with the heel of his palm, the usual soft skin feeling agitated, puffy, and sore. He watched his laptop cursor steadily blink- waiting for him to start the final paragraph for his 12 paged, 5,001 word, single spaced _Archeology Through the Ages_ essay he'd been putting off for over a week. _And_ he still had to type the work cited page.

He stared at the bright screen for a few more minutes, fingers hovering over the keyboard. 2:15 AM. Arnold sighed, realizing he was too exhausted to make a coherent conclusion and moved the cursor to _file,_ hitting _save_ multiple times before closing his laptop with a _click_. He would just wake up before his 6 AM class and finish it then- _right, because you're such a morning person._ He stood up and stretched, reaching both hands above his head as he leaned his head back, feeling the stress leave his back and neck. Five continuous hours of typing and being hunched over _definitely_ made him sore and stiff.

All Arnold wanted was to get more than three hours of sleep and possibly sleep through his morning classe(s) to finish that _damn_ essay. It wasn't due for a few more days but he knew he'd procrastinate and he didn't have the time or energy for another almost all nighter.

He was doing some mindless HillBook (it's like Facebook, but not) when he heard a soft knock on the door, almost hesitant sounding. He paused, looking at the door and wondering why Gerald or Phoebe didn't just come in.

Arnold slipped his phone into the pocket of his flannel pants and walked to the door. "Gerald," Arnold said as he pulled the door open, not really looking at _who_ was on the other side. "You know you can just come in…." He paused as he saw Helga instead of Gerald. He took a second to let his roam over her. She wasn't wearing anything special or revealing, yet he could _feel_ his body reacting.

Helga was wearing a faded pink t-shirt with a small rip by the collar. She had white flannel sleeping shorts, barely covering the bottom of her supple, round ass. He leaned against the doorframe, his hands sliding into his pockets to appear nonchalant and to stop himself from _kissing her_ senseless, which was what got him _into_ this mess to begin with.

"Did I interrupt?" Helga asked, nodding behind him to his cluttered desk, currently covered with books, loose papers, and scattered notes. Even if she was interrupting, he appreciated and welcomed the distraction.

"Just finished," Arnold lied, walking back into his room. He had to put distance between them, leaning back against his wooden desk, both hands gripping the edge. She moved slightly into the room, mimicking his early position of leaning against doorframe. He didn't know _why_ she was suddenly in his room, but he couldn't help the small feeling of hope that bubbles in his stomach _._ "Couldn't sleep?"

"Something like that," she gave a small laugh. They stood in silence for a minute, Helga looked around the room as she stalled for time. He raised an eyebrow, patiently waiting for her to say what was obviously on her mind.

I was wondering if your offer was still on the table?" She took a step into his room, hands clasped behind her back as if she were asking for a cup of sugar _._

"Yes," Arnold muttered, cutting off anything she was about to say as he closed the distance between them in three easy strides. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her body _impossibly_ closer to his. There were so many questions, rules, and small stuff he _knew_ they needed to talk about but it had been so long since he felt her soft lips and he had been extremely _frustrated._

"We still need to….," Helga murmured, her hands wrapping around his neck, tangling in his blonde hair. She was cut off by his lips capturing hers passionately, politely silencing her.

"I know," Arnold mumbled, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. "And we will, just not _right_ now."

He pulled her back in for a passionate, heavy kiss. His tongue swiped her bottom lip, asking for permission which she granted with a low moan. It made him _dizzy_. He changed the angle, deepening the kiss as he started walking her backwards, his hands sliding down to cup the soft skin of her round ass. Her back hit the wall, her long legs wrapping around his waist, her wet core rubbing against his hard bulge. They both made a moan of appreciation.

"Fuck," Arnold mumbled, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently, loving the way her body jolted against his, pushing him _closer_ to the edge. He was grateful he had changed into pajamas bottoms.

"Bed," she mumbled between kisses, not able to stand the friction. He groaned as he pushed off the wall, loving the way she gasped and _giggled_ as he carried her to the bed, throwing her on the comforter non too gracefully.

Arnold hovered over her, leaning forward to blow into the outer shell of her ear, causing her head to lean back and expose her creamy neck. He placed slow kisses down her jaw to her collarbone and started sucking, the sudden urge to _mark_ her causing him to bite hard. She gasped his name, her low voice sounding like an _Hallelujah_.

She pushed him up and off her, rolling him onto the bed and straddling him _just_ above his bulge. He let out an animalistic growl as she left butterfly kisses down his neck, her fingers lightly grazing down his chest before slipping under the edge of his cotton white sleep shirt to lift it off and up- throwing it somewhere on the floor.

Helga pushed up, pausing to take a moment to study him. His chest was defined but not bulky. She scratched her fingers along his pecks, loving the way his muscles in his stomach and arms contracted, reacting to her touch. She slid down his body, his legs opening to accommodate her as she traced his V. It looked _especially_ good with his flannel pants hanging so l _ow_ on his hips. _God._

She teased the skin under the hem of his pants and boxers, biting her lip as she removed her fingers and ghosted over his erection. She smirked at the way his head flew back in frustration, eyes clenched shut. She ran her hands down his legs, going slow before moving back up and snagging the hem of his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers.

Shortman most _definitely_ did _not fit._ Helga watched his erection twitch, pre-cum pooling at the head. She watched his face carefully as she wrapped her right hand around the shaft, applying slight pressure. He groaned, hands gripping the sheets as her hand moved slowly up and down his shaft, biting her lip in amusement as he tried to contain his moan. _He_ needed to be _quiet._

As if reading his mind, she leaned forward, wrapping her lips around head, sucking slightly. His body jolted as he sucked in air, his right hand tangling in her hair, the pressure reassuring her. She bobbed once, twice, then held him in the back of her throat, her tongue running along the underside before she worked back up, keeping just his head in her mouth. She repeated that action until he thought he was going to explode _right there._ He pulled her up and into a bruising kiss, his right hand wrapping around her waist as he flipped them.

"God damn," Arnold mumbled, reaching for the hem of her shirt, pulling away from the kiss as he whipped it off and threw it behind him, immediately taking a nipple in his mouth. His left hand occupied her other breast, pulling at the other nipple before switching. She gripped his hair, moaning his name as she contorted herself against the comforter.

Arnold moved to kiss down her stomach, leaving butterfly kisses before stopping at the hem of her shorts. He held eye contact, loving how unfocused her eyes were as his fingers hooked in the soft, worn fabric of her shorts and pulled, tossing her shorts and underwear carelessly behind him.

Her arousal was intoxicating and it made him want to mark her there _too_. He was teasing her but he knew he wouldn't get away with it for much longer. She was already getting impatient.

He hovered over her slit, gleaming with the wetness of her arousal. He leaned forward, his tongue running along the length of her slit in a slow, upward motion. His tongue flat. He noticed her fingers gripping the sheets and smirked. He licked again, each time slower than the previous before she was moving frantically against his tongue, silently asking him to _hurry the fuck up._ He hooked his hands under her legs, keeping her in place as he sucking on her clit, smiling at how quick her hand clamped over her mouth. He spelled his name with his tongue slowly, first, middle, and last before she pulled him back to her by his hair.

"Please," Helga whispered, forehead covered in sweat and eyes unfocused. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. "Please." He kissed a pressure point in her neck in response.

Arnold gave her a second to recover, reaching into his bedside table to pull out a condom, tearing the wrapper carefully with his teeth. He was about to roll it on when smaller hands took the rubber from his hands. He momentarily thought he went too far and she was considering, so he sat back and away from her on his heels and waited. She looked at him, confused slightly before she gripped his shaft, holding him still as she rolled the condom down, keeping eye contact. And _God fucking damn._

He rubbed his head against her slit, coating himself for hovering over her, kissing her forehead gently. He lined up with her, watching as she took a few deep breath and smiled up at him.

"Fuck me" she whispered, leaning in to kiss him as he thrusted forward.

* * *

 _Fuck!_ Arnold woke with a start, his skin and the collar of his white t-shirt dark and damp with perspiration. His right hand ran through his damp hair, pushing it off his forehead. The dream had felt _so_ real. Like she was really in front of him. Like he could _taste_ her soft skin, and feel her teeth bite against his lips _._ And her moans. _My God._

He looked at the digital clock on his desk, the red numbers reading just after 6 AM. He groaned, flopping back down as he saw and felt the tent in his pants. He needed a _really cold_ shower. Grateful it was Saturday, he rolled out of bed, grabbing his blue towel from the floor and heading to door. He was almost positive no one else would be up so he ditched his shirt on the floor, wrapping the towel around his neck. He headed to the kitchen, thinking of starting a fresh pot of coffee for afterwards. Apparently, someone elsehad the _same_ idea.

Helga was leaning against the counter, wrapped in her fluffy pink towel, her long, wet hair dripping onto her bare shoulders. Coffee mug in hand, and a fresh cup of coffee, she looked lost in thought. She didn't notice his entrance so he leaned against the hallway doorframe and studied her.

 _God,_ she looked good. He couldn't help his eyes scanning down her body, the towel doing little to hide her soft curves. He tried to memorize how her collarbones protruded elegantly or how firm her jawline was. His mind flashed last night's dream, the same one he'd been having for _nights_ and immediately felt his body react. He pushed off the doorframe and moved into the kitchen, the sound of his footsteps pulling her out of her trance.

"Morning," Arnold mumbled, rubbing the back of his head as if he _just_ woke up and hadn't been watching her. He stood beside her, trying to keep his eyes off her naked, gleaming skin as he opened the cabinet and reached for a coffee mug.

"Good morning," Helga replied distractedly, taking a long sip of coffee as she let her eyes wander over his naked, toned torso. They stood in silence, Arnold pouring himself a cup of coffee before walking to the fridge, grabbing the milk and a spoon from the drawer before talking over his shoulder.

"You're up early," Arnold commented, tapping the metal spoon against the ceramic mug as he took a sip. He turned to face her, leaning against the counter as she gave him a small smile.

He gripped the counter with one hand, his other holding the rim of his mug to his lips, hoping to stop himself from saying anything _stupid_.

"Yeah," Helga hummed, finishing her cup of coffee. "I guess waking up early all those weeks ruined sleeping in for me," she laughed, walking over to the sink, putting her cup inside. She let her towel "fall" slightly and she could hear him groan slightly.

The truth was, that Helga had a rather _vivid_ dream of them being intimate and just couldn't shake the feeling that it _felt so real_ when she woke up. She told herself that Arnold's "offer" was stupid, but it was always on her mind, in her thoughts and _now_ in her dreams. She knew she was going to have to talk to Arnold, but that time wasn't right now.

She walked past him, a small part hoping he'd let her go without confrontation while the bigger part hoped he'd grab her wrist and start the much _needed_ conversation.

 _But he started the conversation last time. After you avoided him for two weeks. He's being patient and not rushing you, but he can only wait so long before he thinks you're uninterested._

Helga turned, biting her bottom lip as she watched him pause, cup raised to his lips, his body stiff, his erection evident, and his knuckles white from gripping the counter. She took a deep breath before looking him in the eye.

"Is your offer still on the table?"

* * *

I know, I know. I promised you spice and passion and instead you get _this._ **What the hell Lovelyseoul21?** I was hesitant about even posting this chapter but both the people who edit my stories "have lives". I edited and re-edited and I think I like how this turned out but I might delete and repost another chapter later, so try not to get too attached, okay? Thanks again for all the reviews and likes and follows, it really makes my day. Much love and until next time.


	5. Chapter 5

SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. ALL CHAPTER. DETAILED SMUT. DETAILED SMUT. DETAILED SMUT. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS WHEN READING. THANKS!

* * *

 _Crash._

Arnold jumped back against the counter, watching in slow motion as the white ceramic mug with hand-painted cherry blossom trees filled with cold coffee fell to the hardwood floor, shattering into _pieces_. He heard a gasp from across the kitchen, he looked over to find Helga had her right shoulder leaning against the half wall, standing on her toes to avoid stepping in any pieces, right hand covering her mouth as her left hand covered her right. Her eyes met his, disbelief, laughter, and mischief swirling in her endless ocean blues.

"Arnold," Helga sighed, her right hand moving to push a stray piece of damp blonde hair behind her ear. His emerald eyes followed the simple movement, following a stray water droplet slide from the ends of her hair, against her skin, teasing him as it slid over her collarbones, down the visible swell of her breast, before slipping under her pink towel. His breathing became shallow as he ran his right hand through his hair. "Phoebe is going to _kill_ you."

He sighed, stepping over pieces the best he could to reach the cabinet under the sink where the matching black and blue dustpan and mini broom were kept. He _knew_ he should care more about the cup, it was a hand painted coffee set that Gerald's parents got Phoebe for one of her birthdays, but he couldn't help thinking how _loose_ her towel had become.

"Not kill," Arnold knelt down, carefully sweeping a spot clean beforehand. "Maybe _just_ maim." He worked in silence, trying to avoid how her long, elegant legs that were crossed at the ankles seemed to go on forever, or how with her arms crossed tightly across her chest, it made her breasts stand out more. She was a temptress. A woman with a red cape and he was the ever charging bull. Always _just_ a little too late. "What was the question you asked me?"

Helga paused, trying to place the question he was talking about. "Are you sure I _asked_ you a question?" she asked, he could hear the challenge in her voice and didn't have to look over to know that her eyebrow was cocked. He looked anyway.

"Why do you think I _dropped_ the cup?" Arnold responded, pausing to gesture to the current mess he was cleaning as he raised an eyebrow. Something about her smirk said he wouldn't like her answer.

"Because you're clumsy," Helga answered without missing a beat, clasping both hands behind her back as she leaned forward slightly. Her hair fell over one shoulder and he got a whiff of her lavender shampoo.

"Har har," Arnold faked laughed, moving slightly to her right to clean up imaginary pieces. "You asked a question; what was it?" His voice dropped, giving her a subtle smirk as he went back to sweeping.

"Something about Phoebe killing you?" Helga guessed, entranced by the way the muscles in his biceps and back moved as he swept. She bit her lip to keep from drooling. She felt a familiar heat pool in the bottom of her stomach.

"Nope," He hummed. He was loving the attention she was giving him. He normally wasn't one for showing off, but something about having her eyes on him, it probably helped that he was the _only_ one currently in the room, made him feel powerful. "Try again." It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

"Hmmm," She laughed, dragging out the h before popping up as if she _just_ remembered. "It was something about you not being able to sleep, _right?"_ She bit her lip to stop from laughing as he looked up and glared. He wasn't going to make the first move, not this time, but it was getting harder to continue crouching with his erection. He was also _losing_ patience.

"Nope," Arnold growled, shuffling to kneel in front of her. He could see the shadow the opening of her towel made against her upper thigh. "Again."

Helga swallowed, his demand making her legs turn to jelly. "I asked if the offer was still on the table." She nearly went cross eyed at how quickly he stood up, leaving just _inches_ between them.

He said nothing as he leaned forward, his lips brushing hers when she heard the _ting_ of the trash can lid hitting the wall. She pulled back in confusion, looking over to watch as he dumped the broken remains into the garbage, letting the lid shut with a satisfying _thud_ before throwing the dustpan and broom on the counter.

"My answer," Arnold laughs, his right hand forming a fist under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Is no." He pulls back, watching her face contort into confusion when he picks her up, hands cupping her ass and walks to the island.

He sets her down, standing between her legs, leaning forward so both hands are flat on the counter on either side of her hips. His eyes switch from her lips to her eyes, his breathing ragged.

"Is _that_ all you've got," Helga teases, her eyes glint with the promise of everything good and evil while her lips curl into her signature smirk.

"Don't tempt me," Arnold growled, his voice above a whisper. "I'll make sure you can't _remember_ your own name or be able to walk _straight_ for a week." She smirked and it screamed _do it._

"Don't tempt me with a good time," Helga whispered, her voice feather light as her hands rubbed up his arms and into the back of his hair. She pulled slightly and he moaned. "Football-Head."

 _Jesus. When was the last time she called me that? Elementary? Maybe middle school. Fuck_.

Arnold suddenly was _done_ playing this game. His hands gripped her hips, hard enough to leave bruises as he pulled her to the edge of the counter, her skin sniffing against the surface. "Want to run that by me one last time? I'm not sure I _heard_ you?" He was giving her an out and they both knew it.

She leaned closer, her breath smelled of fresh coffee mixed with lavender. It was intoxicating and a smell he _wish_ he could put away in a bottle forever. "Football-Head," she whispered.

His lips were on hers, frantic as he pulled her against him. Her fingers scratched the back of his scalp, the sensation sending a pulsation through his cock. "Fuck," Arnold moaned, tilting her head back to kiss down her sharp jawline, alternating between biting and kissing. He found a spot that made her arch against him, the friction driving him insane so he stayed there a touch _longer._

Arnold's lips were at her collarbone, sipping imaginary wine when she pulled him off, pushing him slightly back as she slipped down. He thought that was the cut of point for her when she turned him and pushed him, albeit gently against the counter. His hands steadied him as she left kisses across his chest, her nails scratching down his abdomen.

"As much as I'd like for you to just _fuck_ me," Helga whispers, taking a step back until she hit the wall. "But we need to talk _rules_ first."

Arnold sighs, knowing this conversation would happen but didn't quite expect it to interrupt something so _heavy._

"And _now_ isthe best time?" He asks, running his hand through his hair. Her eyes immediately drop to his erection, the same one he's had all morning and was now getting extremely painful.

"You can't multitask," Helga argued, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way. It was _daring_ him to prove her wrong.

"Says you," Arnold retorted. He tried to look unaffected when she crossed her arms over her chest but his cock twitched painfully.

"Prove it," Helga taunted. She had _no_ idea how she was going to make him prove it but she was always _up_ for a challenge.

"Give me something to do then," he replied. He almost said _someone to do_ and that would have been Game Over.

"No," Helga smirked, closing the gap between them as her fingers danced on the hem of his pants. "I'm going to do something and _you're_ going to have to pay attention. Think you can?"

 _No_ , his brain yelled but his pride screamed _yes._

"What are you going to do?" Arnold asked, looking carefully over at the closed door of Phoebe and Gerald's room. He _knew_ if Gerald caught him, he'd never let it down. He looked back at Helga to find her on her knees, giving him a perfect point of view of her breast.

As much as he wanted this, and god _damn_ did he want this, he wasn't entirely sure it was worth getting caught.

"Last chance to back out," And Arnold almost said yes until she breathed "Football-Head."

"Never," Arnold placed both hands flat on the counter behind him as she reached up agonizingly slowly and caught the hem of his flannel pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. His erection sprang free, pulsing, painful, and oozing pre-cum.

"Rule one," Helga started, kissing the tip of his cock ever so gently, watching it twitch at her touch. He _already_ regretted this. "No catching feelings," she licked the underside of his cock slowly. "Okay, Shortman?"

Arnold groaned as he opened one eye to look at her. If he could have one picture his _whole_ life it would be this one _right here._ Minus his dick in her mouth. Her eyes looked endlessly blue, wide while her mouth curled into a smirk, even around his head. "No catching feelings," he sucked in a harsh breath of air, his hands gripping the counter.

"Not doing so hot," Helga teased, sliding him to the back of her velvet throat as evidence. He almost came _right_ there. _This woman is trying to kill me._

"My turn," Arnold stuttered, sucking in another breath as she gave him a few slow, torturous pumps. "We keep this…." he gasped as she deep throated him once, twice before sucking on the third time up. There was black around the edges of his vision. His hands tightening into the back of her hair. "Between us," he finishes, his voice ragged as he slumps against the counter.

He looks down to see his cock in her mouth, her nose touching his stomach but she didn't move. She instead raised an eyebrow and slightly cocked her head.

"What," Arnold asked, his breathing ragged. She nodded slightly to her left and his immediate reaction was Gerald and Phoebe were standing there. His head moved slowly to the right but they weren't there. "What?"

She released him with a noisy pop, pumping him as she talked. "Except Phoebe and Gerald."

"Except Phoebe and Ger…." Arnold mimicked, his words cut off by another deep bob.

"Rule three," Helga states around the head of his cock. "When you find someone, tell me and we'll end this. No arguing, okay?" She remained still around his head, not moving but eyeing him carefully.

"You mean _we,_ right?" Arnold asked, grateful for the break.

"Sure," Helga replied half-assedly. "When _we"._ He caught it and he had meant to say something but the head of his cock touched the back of her throat and she held it there and the thought was _long_ gone.

"Final rule," Arnold gasps, he was getting close but he had to finish the rules before he _finished._ He was going to prove Helga wrong and make her _pay._ "We do more than just sex."

Helga stopped suddenly, causing a groan of disappointment and relief from Arnold.

"More than just sex?" Helga asked, taking her mouth off of his cock and just kneeling in front of him. His erection suddenly felt cold as it bobbed and twitched. He tried to ignore it.

"I told you at our talk," Arnold started, "we're more than FWB's but we're not together, you know?" Helga had no clue what that meant, apparently her face said the exact same thing. "It means, I'm your friend first and foremost. If you're having a shitty day, sex might not fix it. So we'll do a movie or some shit and see where that takes us."

To Helga, that sounded like dating but she'd know if she had feelings for the guy and Arnold would tell her if he had feelings. "Sure," she replied. She stared at his dick for a second, making him feel _really_ self conscious but she just smiled. "You actually did it. I'm impressed although it was touch and go. Have you thought of your prize?"

She went back to sucking, using her mouth and hands to cut off whatever he was about to say. He came moments later and she collected every drop. She looked up at him as he slouched against the counter and swallowed. It _almost_ made him hard again.

"Oh yeah," Arnold mumbled, pulling up his boxers and pants. "I have something planned for you."

* * *

What the _fuck_ is this Lovelyseoul21?

I'm not 100% sure what to think of this chapter myself. I have my pros and cons, but I don't think I'm going to change it or delete it unless something _major_ happens. Thanks for being good sports, reading, commenting, liking, and following. I appreciate you!


	6. Chapter 6

This is one of my biggest chapters yet, so I'm sorry ahead of time. 4,188 words, excluding the note at the beginning and the end! This chapter, and future chapters contain a lot of detailed sexual situations. Please be cautious when reading. Thank you!

* * *

"Do you _actually_ have a plan?" Helga teased, attempting to break, or at least lessen the palpable silence surrounding the blondes. "Or are you just _saying_ you do to keep me on my toes?" She was still kneeling, her knees and legs were starting to feel sore from the hardwood floor. Her back was rigid, palms were lying flat against her thigh as she looked up and waited for his response.

She looked and felt like Anastasia Steele from _Fifty Shades of Grey_ ; kneeling in the Red Room, waiting for instructions while he teased her until her body screamed for him to just _fuck_ her. She couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to be a submissive. The idea of Arnold being a _dominant_ made her _wet_ with anticipation.

Something about calling Arnold "Sir", or finding out what his idea of a proper _punishment_ was was a _major_ turn on. She could _feel_ that familiar bubble of needstir in her lower stomach; she'd need to take care of it soon, with or without him. She shook her head, trying to lock those thoughts away for now and _focus_. She'd use them _later_ when she was alone in her room _._

Helga closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure, unaware that Arnold was watching her. His eyebrow quirked questioningly at her sudden head shake or wondering whether her pupils were _actually_ blown when she looked up at him or if it was his overactive imagination.

His eyes trailed down to her thumb, stroking smooth, continuous patterns against her bottom lip, a sign he first noticed in middle school to mean either deep concentration or mild frustration, sometimes both. He never realized how much of a turn on such a simple gesture was for him, but maybe it was the _woman_ and not the _gesture._

"I guess you'll have to be _patient_ ," Arnold said, surprising himself at how low and slightly authoritative his voice sounded. He didn't know his voice could sound so _raw,_ but he liked how powerful it made him feel and how it made her body shiver and her thighs to squeeze together. He decided to push his luck a bit further, he was **bold** guy after all.

"Think you can _manage_?" He smirked as her eyes shot open, looking up to lock with his, mischief gleaming behind her ocean blue eyes, promising everything good and bad.

Helga felt like her body was on _fire_ and was quickly losing control. Moving to stand, she ignored the feelings of pins and needles as she took a step towards him. She needed to regain the upper hand, and she couldn't let him get too _cocky,_ not yet.

She clasped her hands tightly behind her back, pushing her boobs up and together to create a bubble of supple, soft, inviting flesh. She had to hide her smirk as his eyes immediately flickered down to her chest, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip.

"I've never been good at _waiting_ ," Helga whispered, leaning in so her body was lightly pressed against his, leaving a small space between them. He could feel her chest pressed against him, even through her towel. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing harshly as his throat suddenly felt _dry_.

Arnold looked at her for half a second, the smirk of her lips _daring_ him to make a move. And he did, his actions fast and precise. He grabbed her hips, turning and lifting her onto the counter as he stepped between her legs, resting both hands against each outer thigh. Her mouth opened into a O; his lips curled into a smirk. _Check-mate._

"I guess," he said, his breath uneven as he leaned impossibly closer, watching as her eyes already started to close. He moved past her lips, blowing on the outer shell of her ear before whispering, "it's about time you _learn_."

Arnold knew she would have a comeback, or a remark of some sort so he caught her earlobe in his teeth, successfully cutting off anything she was about to say. His body was already reacting to the appreciative moan that escaped her soft lips, her hands skating up his bare chest before tangling into the back of his hair.

"Are we _interrupting_?" a male voice suddenly appeared, his tone one of teasing. Arnold paused, his muscles tense as he groaned and gently pushed away from Helga, leaving his right hand by her thigh. He turned to face a smirking Gerald and Phoebe, both with arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

 _Yes._ "Nope," Arnold said, popping the P in hopes of sounding causal and _not_ something he's been thinking about for _weeks._ He could tell _neither_ had bought it. He looked over at Helga who had slid off the counter and was fixing her towel.

She appeared calm on the outside, even though she was mentally cursing Phoebe and Gerald for interrupting some much needed _teasing time,_ although lesson learned _not_ to in the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Helga asked to no one in particular, her voice light as she walked the kitchen, not checking to see if anyone was following. Arnold and Phoebe started following her when Gerald caught Arnold's arm, stopping him.

Phoebe shook her head, smirking before following Helga into the kitchen, reaching into a cabinet to grab fresh mugs. She started small talk, but Helga was concentrated on making a fresh batch of coffee.

Arnold watched the girls for a few more seconds before turning to look at his best friend, wanting to wipe that stupid, knowing smirk off his face. "Don't," Arnold groaned, leaning against the counter as his right hand jerked through his hair.

His eyes traveling back to the blonde in the kitchen, letting them linger over her legs and the tease of her ass under her towel as she bent down for a frying pan. He could feel Gerald rolling his eyes at him. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Nothing happened."

Gerald remained quiet, watching Phoebe carefully crack an egg into the pan as Helga leaned against the fridge, hands gesturing casually. "S _omething_ happened," he said, noticing how Helga looked over at Arnold, bit her lip, and then quickly looked away.

"Or at least try and hide your _boner_ if you're going to attempt to lie," Gerald laughed, looking back at Arnold and laughed as he clapped him on his shoulder. Awkward boners didn't make quite as many appearances, so Arnold couldn't think of another excuse.

"Say it louder," Arnold hissed, stuffing his hands into his pocket and shooting Gerald a glare. "I'm not sure the girls _heard_ you from the kitchen. As I said, _nothing_ happened." He tried hard to forget how her _talented_ lips looked and felt wrapped around his dick. "Or nothing _major_."

"Define _major_?" Gerald asked, crossing his arms and waited for the blonde to continue. Arnold hesitated, staring back into the kitchen at Helga, who was sitting on the counter with her ankles crossed. He suddenly couldn't remember what Gerald had asked, his only focus on how to get her _back_ into that position sometime _soon_.

Gerald tried again, " _Define_ major?" When Arnold once again didn't hear him, he embraced his inner Gibbs (NCIS) and smacked Arnold in the back of the head, the sound loud enough to catch the girls' attention.

Both girls looked over with questioning faces, their eyebrows quirked slightly. Arnold felt his face turn red and said the first thing that came to mind. "Fly."

He could feel Gerald shaking his head, putting his hand against his forehead in attempt to hide his laughter. The girls stared at him for a moment longer before rolling their eyes and returning to their conversation.

"Necessary?" Arnold half yelled, half-yelled as he turned to glare at his smirking friend. He sometimes wondered how they have been friends for so damn long.

"Caught the _fly_ ," Gerald emphasized, nudging his friend in the shoulder. Arnold just rolled his eyes, rubbing the back of his head.

The guys stood in silence for a few minutes, Arnold's attention back in the kitchen. Gerald sighed, honestly thinking of investing in a water bottle to squirt Arnold whenever he wasn't paying attention.

"You were defining _major,"_ Gerald whispered, leaning close to the blonde's ear, causing him to jump at his sudden voice. It definitely caught his attention.

Arnold was hesitant, choosing his words carefully _._ "I…. found out how _talented_ Helga is with her mouth," he whispered, remembering how she looked on her knees, her soft lips wrapped around his dick, the way her cheeks caved slightly as she sucked, and the incredibly sexy way she held him in the back of her throat, her eyes locked with his.

"Wait," Gerald said, pinching the bridge of his nose, dreading Arnold's answer to his question. _Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to._ " _Where_ exactly did you discover her _talent_?"

Arnold didn't look at him, instead finding the hardwood floor suddenly extremely interesting. "Around."

"I'm only going to ask one more time; _where_ did you _discover_ her _talent?_ Because Phoebe and I found you out here against the…."

He stopped, taking a deep breath as he looked at his best friend, watching as his face turned red. He looked at the counter behind Arnold, to Helga, then back to Arnold and cringed. "Disinfect and next time, use your own rooms or at least the shower. _Not_ where we _all_ eat. We're not animals. Understand?"

Arnold nodded guiltily before following Gerald to have breakfast with the girls. Luckily, the blondes' sex life didn't come up in conversation.

* * *

 _Fuck._ Arnold thought for the millionth time, his eyes drifting to a blonde in the kitchen currently wearing a short, light pink dress. It was a summer dress with thin straps, and their apartment was hot, but it left little to the imagination.

It stopped about mid thigh, clinging in all the right spots and showing off her slim but athletic figure. It also pushed up her boobs, which he now _knew_ were soft, so there wasn't a valley of space between them-just two, supple bubbles. She didn't understand how much effect that dress had on him. That _she alone_ had on him.

Arnold turned back to NFL game on TV, not paying attention as he took a long swig of beer. After his shower, he put on a teal t-shirt with blue jeans, his black Converse, and a red and blue striped button down tied around his waist.

His eyes slid back to her, his mouth feeling dry as he caught a glimpse of red when she bent down to pick up a wayward chip from the floor. He was _positive_ it was her underwear, and about 75% sure it was a thong. _Of fucking course._

He took another swig of beer as he turned back to the game, ignoring Gerald's smirk. He honestly couldn't tell you who was winning, what quarter they were in, or who had _just_ scored- but he'd never willingly admit that to Gerald.

Gerald smirked as a commercial rolled onto the screen, something about car insurance with Liberty Mutual, when he caught him looking at Helga, _again._ She was helping Phoebe get snacks and drinks ready for the gang and was dancing to _Kiss The Girl,_ the Ashley Tisdale edition. He was going to mess with him, and it was going to be too _easy._

"That was quite the play, hmmm?" Gerald asked, breaking Arnold from his distraction as the blonde turned to face him.

"Yeah, quite phenomenal," Arnold replied distractedly, looking at the TV for in hopes of some help. _Who's playing,_ Arnold thought, trying to think to the beginning of the game, when Helga was still in her room getting ready.

"Do you know the score?" Gerald asked, looking at his phone as if reading a "new" text. "Sid wants to know." If Arnold was more observant, he'd see the scores flash across the screen as the announcers reminded them they'd be "right back".

"25 to 13, I think," Arnold replied, watching as Gerald "typed" out a message to Sid.

"Thanks," Gerald replied, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He watched as Phoebe pulled out her phone, reading the message while Helga was pulling out a hot tray from the oven.

She quirked her eyebrow, grateful that Arnold was distracted by his phone and quickly typed out a response.

 **P: What do you mean, "tease A?"**

Gerald got it a few minutes later and typed out a three word response.

 **G: Follow my lead.**

"How's the food?" Gerald called, pulling Arnold away from his phone as he turned to look at the girls. Phoebe was piling cookies onto a plate while Helga poured them each a glass of wine.

"Just finished," Phoebe answered, walking into the living room with Helga following behind. She set the plate on the glass table, pulling out coasters from below and sat on Gerald's lap.

Helga sat on the edge, swirling her wine as she handed the other glass to the raven haired girl, her boobs inches from Arnold's face as she leaned over.

"Who's winning?" Helga asked, taking a long sip as she looked at the screen, aware that Arnold was watching her every move. His eyes trailed down her body, wondering just how _easy_ it would be to rip that small dress off her.

"Path…."

"Broncos," Gerald interrupted, knowing he hadn't been paying the slight bit of attention. And he hadn't. He didn't even know the Broncos were _playing._ He must have been more distracted than he thought.

"I want a picture," Phoebe sang, pulling out her phone and sitting beside Gerald on the small couch. It was really meant for three people, but four usually worked if Phoebe sat on Gerald's lap.

Helga nodded as she moved to sit on the floor, her pulse quickening when she felt a rough hand grip her wrist and pull her onto his lap. His right hand braced against her thigh, rubbing circles as his left sling against the back of the couch.

"Say cheese," Phoebe yelled, amused that her plan was working _so_ well. She counted down, when three hit, Arnold's hand squeezed Helga's ass.

* * *

Game Night was in full swing as the gang sat on the floor around the glass table in the living room. A collection of beer bottles, mainly thanks to Sid and Thad, were piled on the kitchen counter and three empty wine bottles, thanks to mainly Rhonda and Phoebe, were on the floor beside the couch. The slightly intoxicated group was currently attempting to teach Lila and Rhonda the rules of Poker.

The gang was organized boy-girl-boy, nobody could sit next to their significant other. Arnold had Phoebe on his left, patiently waiting for the game to start, and Helga on his right, laughing at a joke Eugene was telling.

Being close to her worked in his favor and was Step 2 of his plan, Step 1 was grabbing her ass during the picture. She had blushed but didn't say anything afterwards. He wasn't sure how far he'd get tonight, but he'd take what he could get.

Arnold had two and a half bottles of beer and Helga was working on her second glass of wine. The others were on either four of five, but he had asked her to slow down, not telling her why.

He wanted her to remember him getting her "back". And if the night ended in sex, which he didn't assume would happen, he didn't want it to be drunk and messy. It also made him more careful around the others since nobody but Gerald and Phoebe knew about their arrangement.

Arnold was rubbing small lazy circles against her left ankle under the table, talking to Brian, who was next to Phoebe as Harold and Sid went over the rules "for the last goddamn time".

They had all night, as the rule of Game Night was that all the guests who drank _had_ to spend the night, no debate. Whoever was hosting, got their own bed.

The girls and guys were getting frustrated, taking a drink whenever they didn't understand something or had to repeat themselves. Helga quickly realized she was too sober for this and took another small slip of wine. _Whatever you have planned better be good, Shortman._

Lila threw her cards on the table and came up with the idea for a movie night, as the majority of them were too intoxicated to go _out_ and do something. The guys agreed, earning buzzed kisses on their cheeks as the girls went to the kitchen to make popcorn.

The guys moved the tables and drinks to make room for blankets and pillows. Gerald and Phoebe choose one corner of the couch, Arnold and Helga got the other, and the rest of the gang spread out on the floor.

Arnold grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, throwing it over to cover his and Helga's lap, his hand resting against her inner thigh, drawing patterns on her soft skin. It was slowly starting to affect her as she jolted when he stopped, waited a few seconds, and then restarted.

Lila had picked _Love, Simon._ As the opening credits rolled on the TV, Arnold kept his movements slow and simple, not bringing attention to them. He was lucky they always sat together during Game Night anyway, so nobody really thought anything off it.

Gerald smirked at him from the corner, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around Phoebe and gave her a kiss on the forehead. It was about halfway through the movie when people started dozing off, but he still kept his movements slow; only moving up her thigh slightly.

When Phoebe and Gerald walked past them to head to "bed", they said a quiet goodnight and told the blondes to "behave". The blondes just rolled their eyes and continued watching the movie, moving to sit in the middle of the couch instead of in the corner.

Arnold sat behind Helga, his feet propped up against the edge of the table. She sat in front of him, legs spread in front of her with her ankles crossed. His hands were folded on her stomach, drawing small patterns when he started kissing down her neck, catching her off guard and causing her to gaps.

He stopped, looking around to see if anyone heard that, but nobody moved; everyone was asleep. They sat still for a few more seconds before he moved to put her feet up on the table, mimicking his. His hands rested against the soft skin of her thigh and he had never been so grateful for a short dress

Arnold slowly started tracing patterns on her thigh, moving up slowly until he reached the soft fabric at the hem of her dress. His eyes didn't leave the screen as he paused, giving her time to say "no" or "stop".

He tapped his fingers once, then twice, before moving under her dress, stopping again to wait for her to say no. She put her hand on his and squeezed; a silent sign for him to continue.

Arnold started kissing down her neck again, alternating between biting and kissing, his hand moving closer and closer to her thong. He was playing a dangerous game; she was extremely _loud._

Helga couldn't count the number of times she had to bite her upper arm when she orgasmed to keep from screaming and waking up the whole apartment complex. Or the amount of times she would have to turn up the TV or music because she was getting louder. It didn't really even matter, Phoebe still heard her and would give her a sly smile the next morning.

Arnold's hand brushing against the edge of her thong quickly brought her out of her thoughts, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing soothing patterns closer and closer to her core. She leaned back, resting against his chest as whispered into his ear.

"Are you _sure_ you know what you're getting yourself _into_?" She felt his fingers pause, a mixture of relief and frustration as he kissed behind her ear.

"Don't worry, you're in good _hands,"_ he bit down on her neck as he rubbed against her clit through the thin, soaked fabric. She took a deep inhale, biting her lip until she could taste blood, but he kept doing light, smooth strokes.

Helga's left hand gripped his jean clad thigh as her right gripped his arm, strongly but not enough to be misinterpreted as pushing him away.

Arnold's fingers stopped again, she turned about to ask him what happened when his fingers reached over to move her thong to one side. She was soaked, and he could smell her intoxicating arousal.

She could feel his body react behind her, a low moan escaping his otherwise composed behavior as she grinded back against him, He was just _done_ with playing games.

His finger ran up and down her soaked slit, causing her eyes to roll back and her head to fall back against his chest. He smirked, stopping to rub her clit before leaning forward, pushing the blonde to sit forward too.

"You have to stay up," Arnold whispered, applying pressure as he rubbed her clit slightly faster. "Or you'll draw attention if someone wakes up." Her retort was cut off by a low groan as she his finger slid down to her entrance.

"You have to watch your speed," Helga retorted, causing the blonde man behind her to laugh. She was, of course, right. So he moved against her clit at an achingly slow pace and it was driving her slightly insane.

He did a few more strokes, keeping his movements slow and precise to be undetected in the when her nails started digging into his arm, hard enough to leave marks he'd have to explain but at this moment, he didn't care.

Arnold watched her face carefully, ready to kiss her if need be as he did another downward stroke, stopping at her entrance before slowly sliding a finger in, her warmth immediately contracting around him. _Fuck._

He adjusted his pants the best he could with his one hand and tried to focus on the movie, instead of how he wished his finger was his dick and how it'd be great if the apartment was empty. He started to move his finger in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.

He heard a small breathy moan from Helga followed by his name,breathless and intoxicating. He threw caution to the wind, speeding up and adding another finger. Arnold didn't care if anyone saw, he was more focused on getting Helga to say his name again more than anything.

She was trying to keep her voice down, he imagined her lip would be sore tomorrow as he was biting it to keep from screaming. He leaned over to kiss her, the taste of metallic leaking onto his tongue and he changed the angles, hitting a spot that made her see _white_ and jolt against him. He groaned as he started moving against her to create the delicious friction.

Arnold made sure to hit that spot over and over again, her moans getting louder to the point she'd eventually wake up the gang. He slowed down his speed, his arms hurting the mixture of the aggressive fingering and her nails digging into his skin.

He slid his fingers out, smirking at the small whine she made and rubbed her clit slowly, kissing down her sweaty neck. He couldn't make her cum immediately, that wouldn't be fair since she made him work for his release.

He rubbed slow circles, slowly working her back up to the edge of her climax before stopping, his hands just applying pressure against her clit. She was going to look back confused when a head popped up from the floor, groggily looking around.

Arnold rested his head back against the couch and made it look like they had fallen asleep. The shadowy figure reached around for the remote, turning off the TV and laid back down. The two blondes were blanketed in darkness.

Helga leaned back against Arnold to whisper in his ear. "Please?"

She never minded her P's and Q's before and it was weirdly erotic.

"Please what?" Arnold whispered, his pants extremely uncomfortable as he was already thinking of excuses after this to take a long, cold shower.

"Let me cum." He slipped a finger in, adding another as she covered her mouth with her hands, his hands pressing over hers for extra security. It was only a matter of seconds before she came, her whole body shuddering and creating delicious friction.

She went limp, her chest heaving as she laid back against him, her fingers gripping his hand. He slowly pulled his hand away, wiping it on his jeans as she slowly recovered, the white around her vision was slowly fading. Her body felt like rubber.

Arnold was thinking of an excuse to take a shower, when Helga leaned up to whisper in his ear, breathlessly.

"Your room or mine?"

* * *

Hi,

First off, I'm so, so, so, so extremely sorry for the delay in uploading a new chapter. I had major writer's block and I didn't want to post something that was rushed or sloppy. I like this chapter because we see a tug of war between Helga and Arnold for dominance. We also see a different side to both, which will only grow and complicate things in future chapters.

Secondly, I am so extremely grateful to everyone who comments reviews, ideas, what they liked/didn't like, etc. It helps me to stay on the right path, hearing what you all want without having to give up too much of the direction I want the story to go in!

Lastly, I want to thank Writer25 and Wayward-Kitten for their tremendous amount of help over the last week. They gave up time to edit and make sure this story was up to par with the previous chapters, and I'm so grateful. If there is anyone else who would want to help or be apart of that, shoot me an email either on here, Gmail, or find me on Tumblr.

PS: Writer25 is an amazing author and is currently working on a story called Promise of the Sea! It's fantastic and I know I love it so please give the story some love, give the author some love, and just give love all around. I hope to see you before a week's time, but we'll have to see where things take us! Until next time!

Lovelyseoulwriter


	7. Chapter 7

First off: Happy Day After Fourth of July!

Second: Usual heavily detailed sex warning. Please be cautious when reading.

* * *

Suddenly everything felt more _urgent_ to Arnold. His fingers and lips _craved_ to explore every inch of her smooth, creamy, skin- curious if it felt as soft as it looked illuminated by the glow of the full moon. He _needed_ to get her to his room, and _fast._

"Bab….Helga," Arnold mumbled, scooting forward to press the front of his body firmly against her back, biting hard against the soft skin at the base of her neck. He pulled back slightly, noticing the beginnings of a mark appear, stark against her pale skin. He couldn't help the satisfied, and somewhat _cocky_ smirk that appeared on his lips. Tonight, he felt _daring._

The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, causing her to buck back against his erection. She bit her lip to muffle her moan, automatically moving her head to the left to provide his teeth and lips more room. She hummed lazily, her eyes drifting closed.

"I _need_ you in my room. _Now_. So scoot _forward_." His voice was low and dripping with authority as his hot breath tickled her ear. Something about his usual passive personality turning _authoritative_ and the way his _demand_ sounded sent a jolt straight to her core.

Helga moved sluggishly, her body feeling like rubber as her body started coming down from her orgasm. She had noidea _how_ she was going to make it to his room, let alone go _another_ round.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by his right hand on her back, the heat from his palm leaking through the thin fabric of her dress.

Helga felt the pressure and heat from his body disappear from behind her as he moved to stand beside the couch, running his right hand through his unruly hair.

She sighed, closing her eyes and sliding back so her head could rest against the back of the couch. She just needed a _minute_ to recover.

"Are you _that_ tired?" Arnold laughed, shaking his head as he studied her. The alluring way her hair was tousled, her bruised, red lips, and blown pupils made his dick twitch, his pants becoming _quite_ uncomfortable.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing harshly as his eyes trailed back up to her lips. "Or am I _just_ that good?"

Arnold's voice was barely above a whisper, his mind running quickly through his options. Two came up and would lead to the same result, although one would provide _quicker_ results than the other.

"Get up," he instructed, his voice gruff, all traces of humor gone. Helga opened her eyes, a sarcastic rebuttal on the tip of her tongue. It died the moment she saw his emerald eyes _shine._

"Get. Up," Arnold instructed again, taking a step towards her when he noticed she didn't move. She immediately stood up, her legs still feeling like rubber.

She stumbled, catching herself roughly against his chest, his arms automatically wrapping tightly around her waist.

Arnold was quickly losing patience with how _slow_ she was moving. Pulling her closer, lifting her, wrapping her long legs around his waist, his hands moving down to cup her ass, squeezing slightly.

She bucked, brushing against his _growing_ problem. He growled, the sound causing her blood to course through her body.

"Did you just gro…." Helga was cut off by a demanding, passionate kiss, his tongue brushing past her bottom lip, not even asking for entrance as it started challenging her tongue. He started walking backwards, blindly navigating through the dark hallway.

"Hold onto me," Arnold mumbled, his lust filled voice unrecognizable as his mouth moved down her neck, alternating between kissing and sucking.

His right fumbled around for the doorknob, Helga laughing quietly at how ambitious Arnold was acting. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he pushed her against the door, abruptly silencing her laughter.

Arnold regaining control of her lips as he found and turned the doorknob, walking into his room and kicking the door shut behind them with a slam.

They froze, listening for any sign that _someone_ had woken up in the living room or Phoebe/Gerald's room. Arnold counted to ten slowly in his head, praying that everyone was a sound sleeper.

"Momentary lapse in...," Helga started, squealing as she landed on her back on his soft, crisp comforter; the smell of coconuts momentarily filling her nose. She looked up at him, a smirk in place as he started walking towards the bed.

"You were talking _far_ too much," Arnold said, toeing off his shoes, followed by his socks as he moved on the bed to hover over her.

"I thought this was a _nice_ way to shut you up." His right hand braced by her head as the fingers of his left hand ghosted over her thigh, moving her dress up to bunch around her waist. "Be _quiet_ , unless I say otherwise. Do you understand?"

Helga nodded, her teeth biting hard into her bottom lip as she reached up to palm at his erection. He moved out of the way, his hand intercepting her wrist firmly, moving it, along with the other one over her head. "I said, do you _understand_?"

"Yes," Helga breathed, the word coming out breathless, her brain yelling for him to _fuck_ her.

"Yes, _what_?" Arnold asked, his left hand moving farther and farther up her thigh, nearing the place she _needed_ him to touch before freezing, laying his palm flat. He leaned forward, his lips inches from hers. "I don't _like_ repeating myself. Yes, _what?"_

His thumb rubbed agonizingly slow circles against her inner thigh, soaking her thong. She took a deep breath, her voice low and pleading.

"Yes, _Sir_ ," Helga said, emphasizing the last word as his hand rubbed against her core over her thong, the friction causing her to buck against his hand, wanting more. He let out an animalistic growl and it almostmade her cum right there.

"Better," Arnold whispered against her neck, kissing a trail to her collarbone, sucking hard along the pronounced bone, her back arching off the bed.

He leaned back slightly to admire the marks that would be there for _weeks_ , maybe longer. Everyone who'd see them would know she was _his_ , at least in these secret moments.

Arnold leaned down to the valley of her breast, sucking hard, his mind turning blank except for the _need_ to mark her all over and in more way than one.

His finger continued to slowly rub against her thong, stopping for a few seconds when he got her close before starting again. He wanted her to _beg_ for it.

Helga sat up on her elbows, about to tell him off when his fingers slipped under the fabric and into her waiting folds.

Helga flopped back on his bed, her hand flew up to clasp tightly over her mouth, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. He _knew_ she was a loud person, how the _hell_ did he expect her to be quiet during _this?!_

Arnold knew she was holding back, she _had_ to for right now but someday, he was going to make her _scream_ his name over and over and over again.

His other hand skated down over her dress to her chest, squeezing one supple breast while his other hand experimentally rubbed her clit.

Helga's hips bucked off the bed, her hands grabbing his neck, pulling him down to kiss her and quiet some of her moans.

Arnold pulled away all too quickly, earning a small whine from Helga as he moved down to her chest, leaving a trail of soft kisses from her jaw to the valley between her breast.

He bit slightly, smirking against her skin as she gasped and arched farther off the bed before moving to suck hard on a taut, pink, nipple. Images of Helga on her knees, teasing him this morning in only a towel ran through his head and he let out a deep, guttural growl.

Arnold pulled away again, keeping his fingers moving against her core as he watched her. Her silhouette was lit by the moon and her moans and gasps sounded like prayers.

He kissed a trail down her soft skin, dropping to his knees as he leaned in to kiss one hip bone, followed by the other.

Arnold never would have guessed he was a dominant person, but _dominating_ Helga was something he could _quickly_ become addicted to. _We're just getting started_ , Arnold thought, moving to kiss just above her thong.

He moved his fingers under the edge, tugging them experimentally. Helga immediately lifted off the bed, lifting her legs straight up so he could slide his thong off quickly and efficiently. He stuffed them in his jean pocket.

"Please," Helga moaned as he kneeled in front of her, pulling her by the hips to the edge of the bed. He could feel her need _radiating_. He found himself wondering how she _tasted._

"Please," she said again, he knew she wanted to say more. He looked up at her, eyebrow quirked as he silently asked if what she had to say was important.

She let her head bounce against the sheets in frustration as his finger ghosted over her slit, not enough to make her writhe in pleasure but enough to make her want _more_.

"I need _more_ ," she begged. She would have felt embarrassed if she wasn't already on edge and _needing_ release. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about his power role, but she knew it was hot and she'd get him back later.

Right now, all she was worried about was whether he was talented with _more_ than just his _hands._

"After this morning's stunt," Arnold placed feather light kisses on either side of her center, moving teasingly closer. He could feel her moving in hopes of pushing his lips closer to where she needed him. He reached around and held down her hips.

He was pushing his luck and he _knew_ it. "I don't know if you _deserve_ more."

Arnold was getting cocky and Helga needed to _remind_ him that it only went _so far._ "Fine," she replied casually, moving to sit up on her elbows to look at him, challenge burning bright in her ocean blue eyes. "I'll just take care of it _myself."_

She moved to sit up fully, starting to move her legs from around Arnold to get off the bed, only to be pushed back by a strong hand on her shoulder, dragged closer, her dress bunching around her waist.

His eyes were dark and his fingers were pressing hard against her hips.

Arnold apread her legs indecently apart as he looked her square in the eye. "If you make a sound, I stop. Do you understand?"

Helga didn't have time to answer before he gave her a solid, strong lick, his tongue flat. She moaned, her hand not covering her mouth fast enough to stop the sound as she bucked against him, praying that he _wouldn't_ stop.

Arnold stopped, smirking at her low whine. "First warning," he mumbled, giving her another hard lick before moving to suck on her clit.

She bucked harshly against his mouth and he knew she wouldn't last long. He decided to slow things down, as he didn't know when or _if_ he'd get another chance. He gave her a slow lick, inserting his forefinger into her dropping pussy.

It pulsed around his digit and he could only _imagine_ how it would feel around his dick. _Fuck._

Arnold continued to lick her that slow for a few more minutes, her fingers moving at the same agonizingly slow speed, her reactions getting more and more frustrated.

"Arnold," Helga begged, tangling her fingers in his hair as she tried to make him speed up. He gripped her hips, going again at his painfully, slow pace.

"Arnold," she dragged out the D of his name, groaning in frustration as he pulled away completely.

"Wrong," Arnold said, pulling back farther, forcing her to let go of his hair. "Try again."

"Sir," Helga breathed, her voice raspy. " _Please_."

"Please _what._ Use your _words_." Arnold knew she was going to give him _hell_ for this, but seeing her writhe and beg in pleasure was well worth it.

Helga had him wrapped around her little finger, even when he was calling all the shots.

"Make me cum."

Arnold didn't need to be told twice, his mouth was already back on her clit, spelling his name as his fingers pumped at a quicker speed. He added another finger, causing her to writhe against his comforter and moan, her head moving around, tousling her hair more.

" _Cum_ , Helga," Arnold said, spelling his first, then last name before she jolted, her mouth forming that perfect O shape as her body contorting beautifully, his name quietly falling from her bruised lips.

He sat back, his mouth dripping with evidence of how _talented_ he was, his lips curled into a tired smile. He moved to sit next to her on the bed, not touching but letting her know he was there.

Arnold wanted to spoon her, gathering her in his arms and snuggle, but there were _rules. And it's causal._

He was content sitting next to her, watching as she crumpled into a pile on her back, her body twitching as she came down from her second intense orgasm of the night.

Helga turned her head to look at him, her eyes unfocused and her body vibrating. She reached over, rubbing him through his jeans, causing him to groan.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to just turn her over and _fuck_ her senseless, he grabbed her wrist to stop her, his thumb rubbing softly against the skin.

"Tonight was about _you,"_ Arnold smiled, pulling Helga against his chest and falling back against the bed, their legs hanging over the edge. She hummed, too tired to argue as she listened to his heartbeat, thinking it sounded quicker than it should have.

She could fall asleep, her eyelids and body were feeling heavy. _Fall asleep._ The rules suddenly reminded her that she needed to get back to _her_ room. She _couldn't_ stay here, _not that he'd want me to._ She pushed him away lightly.

"I've gotta go," Helga said, sitting up and pushing off the bed to stand, her legs still wobbly. She looked around for her thong, wondering if he flung it somewhere in the room and just made a note to ask him in the morning.

"What did I…." Arnold started, confused and replaying back the whole night to figure out _what_ he had done wrong.

"Rules," Helga laughed at his confusion, running her hand through her hair to tame her unruly hair. She was already moving to stand in the middle of his room.

"Goodnight…Sir," Helga whispered, giving him a wink before opening the door, looking both ways before slipping and shutting it quietly behind her.

Arnold's head fell back on the comforter, his mind replaying the last hour of his life and how much has changed between them.

He looked back at his door, slipping his hands behind his head and sighed.

"What would you have said if I asked you to stay?" Arnold mumbled to the door.

* * *

Thank you to those who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed my story. I know the past few chapters have been heavy but the next one (maybe two, I haven't figured out 100%) will be a bit tamer, leading up to the passion again.

Once again, a major thank you to HappyLittlePychopath and Turchinorain for helping bouncing ideas and editing this bad boy. It wouldn't be as smooth without you! Please go check them out if you haven't already, I thoroughly LOVE their stories and them as authors. They are both AMAZING!

I've also been thinking about having (or at least trying as I make no promises) to have a regular updating schedule? Would that be appreciated or do we like the spontaneity of these chapters? Let me know!

Much love and gratitude thrown all of your way and I hope you all had a WONDERFUL and SAFE Fourth of July! See you (hopefully soon)!

P.S. If you all choose a day, it'll start NEXT week or in TWO weeks. Please try and avoid Monday (if possible!). Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

There is a lot of profanity in this chapter, please be advised when reading!

* * *

Helga _really_ disliked the rain. She scowled up at the dark, heavy rain clouds drifting lazily that were drifting across the sky;seamlessly creating a blanket of anticipation as everyone breathlessly waited for the inevitable downpour.

The incoming storm felt like an accurate foreshadowing of how this whole _agreement_ with Arnold was going to end. Everyone in the gang could _sense_ the impending catastrophe, but only Phoebe and Gerald _knew_ the severity of the possible varying outcomes of shit hitting the fan.

She sighed heavily as she stood on the edge of the stairs outside the Philosophy building, glaring up at the full clouds that smirked back and just _dared_ her to try and make it back to the apartment _dry._

Helga's fingers gripped the edges of her black leather jacket, pulling the flaps closer to her body to block out the sudden chill that seeped through the thin fabric of her t-shirt.

If she was honest, she didn't _actually_ hate the rain, just the painful, sour childhood memories that resurfaced and forced a knife into her heart with blinding flash of lightning or boisterous clap of thunder. Sometimes the memories would seek shelter from the harsh rain, lurking in the dark shadows of the apartment.

Helga reached into the front pocket of her jeans, pulling out her phone to check the time. The small, black numbers displayed 4:39, which meant that Phoebe, the only _sensible_ one out of the four roommates to _drive_ to school would already be back at the apartment.

She inwardly groaned as she stuffed her phone forcibly into the left pocket of her jacket. Helga could already see the small Asian girl in an oversized sweater, black leggings and wool socks, her long, raven hair pulled into a bun as she filled the kettle with water for tea.

Phoebe's mountain of homework would be organized and stacked in front of the large, bay window in the living room, as she sat on her pillow and alternated between watching the storm and Quantum Physics.

It would be a waste of gas and her time to ask her to drive back to campus, especially since she offered this morning to give Helga a ride.

She had politely declined as the sun was out, the sky was clear and a vibrant bright blue, and the weather forecast said _nothing_ about storms within the next 24 hours.

Helga walked slowly down the steps, sighing as drops of rain painted the sidewalk around her. She took her time, enjoying the emptiness of the usually busy courtyard; she'd inevitably be caught in the storm anyways, she _always_ did.

* * *

Arnold rather _liked_ the rain. He stood on the steps outside the History building and looked up at the promising clouds, smiling at how _heavy_ they looked.

His right hand ran through his unruly blonde hair lazily, the hair on his arms standing up from the electrical charge buzzing throughout the air. Hillwood was in for a _big_ storm.

He thought back to his childhood, the many nights he'd stay up late, laying flat on his bed, eyes closed as he listened to the rain rhythmically hit his skylight. He'd sometimes fall asleep to the soothing sound, waking up the next morning in wrinkled clothes from the night before.

Arnold shook his head, smiling at the memories that now felt light years away. A clap of thunder pulled him out of his thoughts, as he dug around in backpack for his dark blue umbrella.

He leisurely walked down the stairs, enjoying the sound of scattered rain hitting the fabric of his umbrella as took his time walking through the empty courtyard.

No, he didn't mind the rain _one bit._

* * *

"Helga, wait!" A voice called from somewhere behind her, barely audible over the sound of the rain harshly hitting the sidewalk around her.

Helga turned around, drenched hair hitting her in the face as she squinted through the rain to see whomever had called her name. She saw a tall figure running towards her, also sans umbrella.

As the person neared, Helga saw it was a male with shaggy auburn hair that was matted to his face and long legs that made it look like his feet didn't touch the ground as he ran.

She laughed at how ridiculous he looked and couldn't help but wonder if she looked _just_ as bad. He stopped a few feet in front of her, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, looking up at her through his hair.

"Hey James," Helga greeted, pushing a stray piece blonde hair behind her ear. Her clothes were sticking to her body and she _honestly_ wanted nothing more than to go home and shower, but she also wanted to hear how his midterm paper, the one worth ⅓ of his grade, had gone.

James Holden was a junior with a low, smooth like honey voice and eyes that always had that mischievous glint in the corners. She met him during one of her late night sessions at the library.

His hands were tangled and pulling anxiously at his hair, his groans becoming frequent and annoying as he mumbled to himself about a writing assignment. She offered him advice, if only to get back her quiet work space and after that, they fell into a routine.

Helga would help with any questions he had about editing, brainstorming, and helping with final read-throughs before he submitted.

Thankfully she met James around the time she was _religiously_ avoiding Arnold. He never asked _why_ she spent the majority of her time in the library and she was _extremely_ grateful.

James stood up, his lips turning into a half smirk, his version of a friendly smile, but it just reminded her of Arnold's smirk when he got too cocky. He tilted his head to the left, his hand jerked through his soaked hair, pushing it off his face and up at a weird angle.

"You walk _extremely_ fast," James laughed, little crow feet appearing at the edges of his eyes, his hand slipping down to rub the back of his neck.

Helga raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms firmly over her chest as she waited to see if that was a half-assed compliment or a hidden insult. "It _almost_ felt like you were _actively_ ignoring me."

She playfully punched the bicep of his right arm, throwing her head back with laughter as he "flinched" away from her in pain. He raised an eyebrow at the sound, rarely hearing her laugh as his lips curled up to reveal a small row of white teeth and pink gums.

"Too bad it _obviously_ didn't work," Helga said, shaking her head in mock disappointment, momentarily forgetting about Arnold or the painful memories the rain stirred.

She forgot how freeing spending time with James was, even if their meetings was solely for homework. She _enjoyed_ his company and taking a breather from all the shitty, confusing things that were currently happening in her life.

"How long were you trying to get my attention?" Helga asked, slightly pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket to check the time. 5:00. She'd been walking in the downpour for almost 20 minutes.

"Not long," James smiled, showing off all his perfect, teeth. She couldn't help but mentally compare them to Arnold's, noting how James' smile radiated politeness while Arnold's enemated warmth, optimism, and openness.

Helga pulled the edges of her jacket forward, closing the gap between the back of the jacket and her neck as the cold rain slid down the back of her t-shirt. She rubbed the heavy fabric, hoping it wasn't ruined.

"I wanted to thank you," James said, adjusting his backpack strap over his left shoulder. "For all your help this semester and with my Midterm. I got an A! My highest grade _yet_."

"Only an A?" Helga gasped, shaking her head with fake disappointment, tsking him. "I expected at _least_ an A+ from you, especially since you got _tutored_ by _me_!"

James rolled his eyes at her playful dramatics with amusement. He noticed a figure standing behind Helga on the sidewalk, watching them. He seemed to be staring more at _Helga_ than at him.

 _Who is that?_ James thought, squinting through the rain to get a better look. He saw blonde unruly hair, and shining emerald eyes; _wasn't that how Helga described Adam? No, Arnold? Is that Arnold?_

His eyes slid back to Helga, who was staring at him quizzically. He glanced over at Arnold, noticing him take a step _forward_ , _closer_ to them, to his _her. Messing with him was just_ _ **too**_ _easy._

"And I wanted to thank you by taking you out to dinner," James said, taking a step towards her and moving to cup her elbow. Luckily she already _knew_ he was a preferred physical touch when having a conversation, Arnold did not.

He moved his body slightly to hide his actions while still making sure Arnold could still see _enough._

"Of course," Helga smiled, placing both hands on either of his biceps and gave them a small squeeze. She wasn't much of a physical person, except for Arnold or people she trusted, but she _trusted_ James. Maybe that was because he had a deep _secret_ too.

James looked over her shoulder to see Arnold start to walk their way, his fists clenched tightly at his side. His face held none of the warmth Helga constantly talked about, only determination and _jealousy? This is going to be fun._

"I'll message you on Hillbook with my number and we'll make plans then, alright?" He smiled, pulling her in for a hug, although from Arnold's point of view, it looked like he kissed her. He had to bite his lip to hide his growing smirk as Arnold coughed loudly from behind Helga.

* * *

Arnold was just minding his _own_ goddamn business, enjoying the rain when he saw a figure walking alone through the courtyard without an umbrella.

The rain was too thick to immediately make out who the person was, but he swore he saw long, blonde hair, and a pink messenger bag. He tried to remember what Helga was wearing this morning but quickly gave up, four three hour lectures had made his brain _mush._

 _Well, whomever they are, I should offer them my extra umbrella,_ he thought, digging around his backpack until he found his plain black one.

Arnold started walking towards the person, stopping suddenly when they turned around, long hair hitting them in the face. It was _Helga_.

He wondered if she _sensed_ he was there, waiting to see if she would wave, insult, or walk over to him when he heard a voice from somewhere in the rain call out her name.

Arnold froze, a mixture of cautiousness and something else building in his veins as an unfamiliar guy ran closer, saying something as he finally caught up to her. He was smirking as his hand ran through his hair in what Arnold would guess was supposed to be a subtle. He rolled his eyes.

He should have continued walking, giving her privacy and just casually bringing it up over dinner. But then he saw her head throw back in _laughter_ and he saw nothing but _red._

Arnold knew he was _dense_ guy growing up, but did she _really_ not know that the other guy was _flirting_? Or did she _not care?_

 _Why do you even care?_ A small voice reasoned, but it was drowned out by the sudden _possessiveness_ coursing through his veins. His left hand squeezed the umbrella handle until his knuckles turned white.

The guy looked over Helga's shoulder, raising an eyebrow at him. He must have looked extremely sketchy but he _honestly_ didn't care. _Helga's an adult and can do whatever she wants,_ Arnold tried to reason, his mind going _blank_ as the guy cupped Helga's elbows. _And she fucking let him_.

Arnold's feet started moving towards her without his command. Her hands moved to squeeze his biceps and she smiled, that smile only _he_ wanted to receive.

 _Who the hell am I?_ Arnold thought as he neared them, Helga still unaware as the auburn haired guy failed to hide his smirk.

Helga turned when she noticed James looking over her shoulder, surprised to find Arnold standing there, plain black umbrella clenched in his hand.

"Hey Arnold," Helga greeted, automatically stepping out of James' embrace to stand slightly off center between the two guys. "This is James," Helga said. _Oh, he has a name,_ Arnold thought bitterly.

Arnold glaring up at James, handing Helga the umbrella as he moved slightly closer, putting a hand on the small of her back. _What the hell is he doing?_ Helga thought, jumping when his thumb started rubbing shapeless patterns.

He really wasn't one to be possessive or create conflicts but this time was _different._ He was _protecting_ Helga.

"Okay? _"_ Arnold commented, raising an eyebrow at James while silently _daring_ him to _do_ something.

Why was hethrowing the masculine card? She wasn't his property, she was a person. He wasn't this much of an asshole when Sid tried to hit on Helga while drunk off his ass, but maybe that was because he _knew_ Sid meant no harm. He didn't know _anything_ about this guy.

James felt the tension, confirming that there was _more_ between the blondes than what everyone got to see. He tried to imagine the guy that Helga told him about, the passionate, passive guy that _wasn't_ territorial. This was going to get messy _fast_.

"Hey man," James said, trying to defuse the situation. Arnold wasn't backing down, Helga looked annoyed, and he just wanted to get out of the rain

"I mean no harm, I was just thanking Helga for her help with my writing class, she's been tutoring m…."

James didn't get to finish before Arnold took a step closer, standing halfway in front of Helga, almost as if protecting her, but from _whom_?

Arnold didn't recognize his voice as it spoke. It was laced was possession and jealousy. Both things that he _wasn't_ used to. That _wasn't_ him.

"Yeah? How _exactly_ were you planning on thanking her?" A series of horrible images ran through his head, most ending with her never being _found_ again. He wasn't too keen on hearing his answer.

Helga had had just about _enough_ of whatever masculine game Arnold was playing and stepped around and in front of the blonde, poking her finger into his chest.

"What the _hell_ is your problem, Shortman?" Helga asked, raising an eyebrow when he _glared_ down at her.

"When did it become any of your _business_ who I do or do not hang out with? I'm not your property; stop treating me like I am." She thought he might be calming down, his face went blank for a second before he turned to face James, taking another step closer to him while pushing against her slightly.

"I'm not treating you like _property_ ," Arnold bit out, his focus still on the guy. He could hear blood pounding in his ears. It was raining and nobody was around, he could easily kick this guy's ass. _Wait, what?_

"But you don't know what guys like him _want,_ Helga,"Arnold said through gritted teeth, the image of James' hand skating over Helga's naked body made him feel physically sick. All he was seeing was red.

"What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?" Helga asked, feeling defensive of James. She didn't know the guy long, but he was nothing but respectful, something she couldn't say for Arnold right now. "You don't even _know_ the guy!"

James touched her shoulder, a silent signal that it was alright but Arnold lunged at James, his actions not registering when Helga caught him, placing both hands on his chest, trying to calm him.

"I don't have to _know_ him," Arnold justified, watching James shake his head, nod at Helga, and walk away. His chest felt like he had run a marathon. "Guys like that are after _one_ thing."

"Arnold, do you _hear_ how you sound right now?" Helga asked, becoming more and more frustrated at Arnold. Over the years she's known him, he's _never_ been like this.

"Do you hear how naive _you_ sound?" Arnold seethed. He could hear the accusation in his voice and knew this was going to either end in an all out screaming match, the best fuck of his life, or her not talking to him for _weeks_. He liked only _one_ of his options.

Helga pushes him back hard, causing him to stumble slightly. He didn't realize how much he was leaning against her. "What _exactly_ is your point?" Helga asked, her voice low as she glared up at him.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," Arnold sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm down. How he was acting _right now_ was only going to get him burned. He didn't think he could go another week or so with her not talking to him.

"That's great and I appreciate it and all but…." Helga paused, trying to figure out where she was going with that thought. She was mad and all of her thoughts were based off that emotion. She needed to _go home._

"You don't always make the best decisions with people," Arnold sighs, needing to say it while hoping she wouldn't take it out of context. She wasn't too trusting of people, but she could _choose_ better people to associate with.

 _Um, what?_

Helga takes a step back, "Who are you to judge that, Arnold?" Helga asked, hands on her hips, her voice filled with hurt and anger. This wasn't good.

"I only meant…." Arnold defended weakly, trying to explain the rapid fire of emotions and thoughts flying through his brain, just high enough out of reach for him to grab.

"Am I a bad decision to you?" Helga asked, her voice strong as she took a step closer to him, her finger pointed at his chest.

"Of course not, you're…." Arnold was interrupted again. She took another step towards him, he took a step back.

"I'm _what?"_ Helga growled, her walls quickly rebuilding around her. This wasn't how he wanted today to go.

When he didn't answer, she shook her head disgustedly at him, walked around him, and started walking away.

"You can't always just ignore me when I fuck up," Arnold said, his voice sounding tired while his face held little emotion. "Because it's going to happen a lot, you'll fuck up too, but we can't keep doing this."

"Doing _what_?" Helga asked, her back still to Arnold but as stopped walking. _Being friends. Having you in my life,_ a voice whispered in her head.

"Taking five steps back for every two forward." He took a step closer to her, carefully trying to find the words he so desperately needed. "I care about you and I'll fuck up again, but we have to keep moving forward."

"I'm not your property," Helga said, wrapping her arms around her frame as she turned to face him. Keeping her distance but looking him in the eye.

"I know," Arnold said, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly. "I saw James touch you and I just saw _red_. I can't explain it and I don't know if I _want_ to"

"Afraid someone was zoning in on your _fuck buddy?"_ Helga teased, raising an eyebrow as he stood up straighter, looking her square in the eye. He did _not_ look pleased.

"We went over this," Arnold hissed, his voice laced with something neither blondes could place. "You are _more_ than just a goddamn fuck buddy."

His actions were quick as he closed the gap and kissed her, his hands snaking around her waist, pulling her to him. All the anger both felt was translated into a heated kiss, hands skating over soaked clothes. They honesty looked like something out of _The Notebook._

"Let me make it up to you," Arnold breathed, causing her to shiver before nodding slightly. That was all he needed. He threw her over his shoulder and searched for the nearest secluded spot.

* * *

Guys,

I really enjoyed writing this chapter because I got to experiment with a different side of Arnold, one that wasn't fully dark Arnold but wasn't his normal self either. It was a doozy to edit and get going, but I think I like how the characters formed and interacted with each other, themselves, and nature.

I have some bad news though. I won't be posting for a bit, I'm sorry! I'm going on vacation until the 30th, move into a new apartment on the 1st, and I have no idea when I'll have Wi-Fi. I'll hopefully have more than one chapter to upload when I come back!

Thank you to all of those who read, commented, favorited, and followed myself as an author and my story, I really appreciate you all! I hope you all stick around in this dry period!

As usual, I had amazing help from HappyLittlePychopath and Writer25. They help make this story less full of ramblings (be grateful!).

I'll see you in hopefully less than a month!

Lovelyseoulwriter.


	9. Chapter 9

"You should have _seen_ him, Pheebs," Helga sighed, sitting down across from her petite best friend, swirling a fresh glass of Moscato white wine. She sat sideways against the back of the couch, her bare feet tucked under her as her head tilted to rest against the fist her right hand made.

She had changed into dry clothes, changing her light pink shirt for a plain white t-shirt with a small pocket over her left breast and a light gray jacket. She had on her favorite soft, black leggings and her damp hair was pulled over her left shoulder.

"It was like something in him had just _snapped_ ," Helga said, distractingly taking a long, slow sip of her wine as she replayed the admittedly more interesting part of her day back in her head.

She shivered slightly as she remembered the unfamiliar way his face contorted with anger and, was that _jealousy_? Or how his actions and words were powerful and swift, yet lacked thought, like he was acting on auto-pilot.

"You both looked like a _mess_ when you came home," Phoebe laughed slightly, remembering how the blondes had stumbled into the apartment, both soaked and with disheveled clothes. Helga's lips looked swollen and bruised while Arnold's eyes shined darkly.

"So, what happened?"

Helga hesitated momentarily before launching into explaining everything in excruciating detail. "He was so _hostile_ towards James, someone he didn't even _know_ but made assumptions about and played his masculinity card. Not to mention, he's _gay_."

Phoebe took a small sip of wine, thinking of her next words carefully, looking Helga straight in the eye. "Did he know _that_?"

Her words were slow and meaningful, leaving no room for error of Helga misunderstanding what she had meant.

"I," Helga started, running her fingers through her hair, flinching as she hit a knot. She took the distraction to give her time to plan her next sentence carefully. She changed tactics.

"Do you think it would have made a _difference_? Helga asked, not looking at Phoebe but instead a loose thread on the couch cushion in front of her.

"I think," Phoebe said, her words deliberate. "It might have slowed the process of things _escalating,_ but I'm not entirely sure it would have stopped anything."

The two girls sat in silence, Phoebe looking over Helga's shoulder, watching the rain harshly hit the window. She had an _idea_ about what happened with Arnold, but an _idea_ wasn't enough to warrant freaking Helga out.

"I think he just needs time to process everything," Phoebe smiled, laughing a bit. "Who knew Arnold Shortman could be **bold** and aggressive?"

Helga smirked and immediately blushed, the color red spreading down her neck and under the hem of her shirt. She already _knew_ how _bold_ and _aggressive_ Arnold could be.

Her smiled suddenly contorted slightly into a thin line, one meaning she was in deep thought. Her movements were jerky as she leaned over to set her glass down on the living room table. She pulled a pillow into her lap, pulling lightly on the tassels hanging off the corner as her stomach started feeling nauseous.

"Talk to me," Phoebe whispered, leaning forward to put a hand over blonde's and squeeze. "I'm here."

"Um, right after our fight, he told me to let him "make it up to me"," Helga whispered, remembering his lips on her skin, mixed with the rain. How his fingers gripped her skin as he pushed her against the side of a building, the name unimportant as his fingers unbuttoned her jeans and worked her over the edge again and again.

She looked into his eyes as she came down from her final high, a shiver running down her spine as his eyes darkened when she dropped to her knees, his head falling back in ecstasy at her talented lips, her name being drowned out by the rain.

"I'm assuming he did?" Phoebe interrupted her thoughts, letting go of her hand to put her almost empty glass on the table and mimicked Helga's previous position. She could feel her energy shift from a few minutes ago.

"Multiple times," Helga whispered, unsure why now she felt so _embarrassed_ when she had literally almost caught them in the kitchen less than a _week ago_.

"But….?" Phoebe urged, knowing there was _more_ the blonde needed to say, her mind trying to fill in the blanks. She used to be so _good_ at reading Helga and knowing what was on the blonde's mind, but as they got older and their lives got progressly more complicated, it became more and more difficult to crack the code that was Helga's ever active mind.

"He said I don't _always_ make the best decisions when it comes to people." Her voice was low, barely above a whisper. It was mixed with confusion while trying to grasp and understand her own swirl of emotions.

It was _true_ she didn't have the best track record with her choice in boyfriends, as her last one repeatedly cheated on her for the better half of the two long years they were together.

The day things ended had been an all around bad day for the roommates. Helga was sure that if she didn't stop him, Arnold would have left the apartment, banging on Wolfgang's door, and want a _talk_. Luckily Phoebe was able to calm him down while Gerald blocked the door.

The intensity of his mood that day, he was literally _radiating_ anger, was similar to how today had felt, but less intense?

Was he still mad and holding dating Wolfgang against her? Was that a jab or a statement? _People say awful things when they're mad, but then again, Arnold doesn't_ _ **get**_ _mad._

Phoebe raised her eyebrow at the blonde, urging her to continue. She picked up her glass, her eyes never leaving Helga as she took another long sip.

"I'm just confused as to _why_ he acted so intensely for someone who's a fuck buddy." Helga sighed, leaning over to pick up her glass and take a long, needed sip, watching the goldish, clear liquid drain slowly from her glass.

"You're not just his fuck buddy," Phoebe commented, reaching for the bottle of wine on the floor and handing it to Helga. She accepted graciously and filled her glass halfway, even though she just wanted to drink from the bottle.

"Yeah, he said that today when…." Helga started, getting interrupted by Phoebe holding up a finger, indicating she wasn't done talking.

"You are adults who has had this sexual tension build up for _years._ Everyone saw it but _you or Arnold._ Maybe that's _why_ he said and did the things he did, or maybe not, I honestly can't tell you.

But I can tell you that there were _years_ where he watched you get hurt repeatedly and he felt helpless because he _couldn't_ help you. He could have definitely worded things differently, _better_ even, but that's why _I_ believe today happened."

Helga stared speechlessly at Phoebe over the brim of her glass, simultaneously not feeling ready for this conversation while searching her chocolate brown eyes for _something_ to say this was a _joke_. She found nothing. _Of course she wouldn't._

"What are you _saying_ , Phoebe?" Helga asked, wanting to make sure she heard her _correctly. Something going on between her and Arnold?_ _That sounded absurd….right?_

"I'm saying," Phoebe sighed, wondering how her friend could be _so_ intelligent, yet so _dense._ "There has _always_ been something between you two, even when there wasn't a _you._ Maybe the continuous build up has something to do with how today _went."_

"Something…..between us?" Helga echoed, the words feeling heavy and unfamiliar on her tongue. "I mean, we've been _friends_ for the majority of our lives. Is that what you mean?"

 _No_ , Phoebe yelled internally, while she externally downed the rest of her glass, and poured herself a full new one.

* * *

Arnold was laying flat on his bed, his head a few inches in front of his windowsill as his feet were flat on the floor. Gerald had moved his desk chair in front of his bed, his arms hanging causally off the back.

Gerald could tell Arnold looked conflicted, his hands repeatedly gripped his blonde hair as he kept groaning to himself. He'd sit up, look ready to talk before he'd just silently fall back.

"Arnold," Gerald said, quirking his eyebrow as Arnold flinched before sitting up on his elbows to look at him. He had obviously interrupted some inner conversation the blonde was having with himself.

Arnold could see the the silent question, asking why he was here, mixed with curiosity of what had lead up to this meetup.

They had been sitting in silence, excluding Arnold's groans for a good 20 minutes and Gerald was getting restless.

"What's going on, man?" Gerald tried, trying to keep the curiosity and agitation out of his voice. He watched as Arnold sat up and scrubbed his face with his hands. His hair was slightly damp and he had on a dry white t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

"Something _happened_ today," Arnold started hesitantly, closing his eyes as he wondered how to explain how today went from okay to _shit storm_ back to semi okay in less than an hour.

"Like something like what happened last weekend or….?" Gerald probbed, slightly worried about the answer he'd get. He was surprised when Arnold flinched, his hand running through his hair.

"Yes and no," Arnold replied slowly, causing Gerald to quickly become sick of his tip-toeing around the subject. He ran his hand down his face tiredly. He was _supposed_ to be enjoying a quiet evening with Phoebe, not spend hours tip-toeing around a subject with Arnold.

"Dude, if you don't wanna talk right now, fine, but then I'm gonna…." Gerald was interrupted by Arnold suddenly pushing off the bed and started to pace around the small rug. Gerald scooted the chair out of the way.

" _Yes_ , we _fooled_ around, but only _after_ something else happened," Arnold said, frustrated at how hard it was for him to put his thoughts and feelings into words. _I bet_ _ **Helga**_ _isn't having this issue,_ Arnold thought bitterly, running his hand through his hair again.

"Okay?" Gerald probbed, his voice laced with annoyance. It caused Arnold to look up at him in surprise. "What else _happened?"_

"I _snapped_ ," Arnold admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He didn't expect Gerald to understand. _Why would he if_ _ **you**_ _don't even understand_?

"Snapped as in, _lost_ your temper or you hit someone?" Gerald asked, hoping to already know the answer.

"I lost my temper _,"_ Arnold sighed, feeling disgusted with himself and his actions. "Helga was talking to _some guy_ ,

and he _touched_ her and I just saw _red."_

Gerald knew this conversation would eventually come up, but he was actually quite surprised it didn't happen _sooner_.

"Touched _how?"_ Gerald asked, wanting to make sure this situation wasn't more serious than he thought. Arnold glared at him, rolling his eyes as he continued to pace. It was starting to make Gerald dizzy.

"Hands on elbows, pulling her in for a _hug_ that _looked_ like a kiss," Arnold bit out, feeling more and more anger at how _stupid_ it all sounded now. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

"So," Gerald asked, leaning forward against the the back of the chair, his lips curling into a smirk. "You were _jealous?"_

"Not _jealous,"_ Arnold justified, albeit weakly, his face feeling hot as he carefully thought of his next words. "C _autious_. You should have _seen_ him, Gerald."

Gerald tilted his head, eyebrow raised. It took everything in him not to _laugh_.

"He's athletic, "charming," Arnold listed, James' face popping into his head with each characteristic and feature. "There's no _telling_ what could have happened."

"Do you know his name?" Gerald asked, his voice with a teasing undertone. Their college wasn't huge, so it was extremely likely he _knew_ the guy Arnold was talking about, especially if he was an athletic.

"James something," Arnold said, plopping down as if exhausted.

 _Jealousy does that to you,_ Gerald thought, laughing as the blonde flopped back his bed, ending in his original position. "He has a smooth, low voice, au…."

"Auburn hair?" Gerald filled in, his lips hurting from his shit eating smile. He _knew exactly_ who he was talking about.

Arnold sat up on his elbows, confused by the large smile Gerald was giving him. "Yeah, do you know him?"

"Helga's been tutoring him in English for the majority of this semester," Gerald replied, watching as Arnold's face contorted into shock before turning into an unfamiliar facial expression borderlining defensiveness and _anger?_

"That could easily have been an excuse," Arnold argued, wondering why he was trying to find a _flaw_ with a guy he didn't even know. "And guys like him are only looking for _one_ thing." His argument was getting torn, and quickly.

"Guys like him?" Gerald asked, his face full of confusion. Suddenly, it _all_ made sense. "Arnold, James is _gay_."

" _What?"_ Arnold was starting to feel shittier and shittier with every passing moment.

"Phoebe, Helga, and I met his boyfriend," Gerald replied, piecing things together as he ran both hands through his afro. "Back when Pataki was avidly _avoiding_ you…."

"Don't remind me," Arnold called from the bed, slinging his arm over his eyes. Gerald rolled his eyes but continued anyway.

"Phoebe and I met Helga in the library one evening to meet up for dinner, she was there with James. We all sat and chatted for a bit until his boyfriend came to get him. He's not fully out yet, but he trusted us or something."

Arnold owed James and Helga quite the apology.

"I said something today," Arnold sighed, things just kept getting worse and worse. "I told Helga that she doesn't always make the best decision with people. I don't know _where_ that came from or why it was relevant but…."

"You know _fully_ well _where_ that came from and _why_ ," Gerald interrupted, glaring at his best friend. He wasn't as dense as he used to be, but sometimes he still _acted_ like it.

"Did you ever ask yourself _why_ you were _always_ in her business during her relationship with Wolfgang?" Gerald asked, trying to nudge his dense friend in the _right_ direction.

"Because she's my friendand I car…." Arnold instantly replied, being cut off by Gerald.

"Wrong!" Gerald said loudly. "Try again."

"She's my _friend_ and I…."

"Still the wrong answer," Gerald shook his head, already annoyed. This could end up being a _very_ long night.

"I….I don't know, because I felt similar to how I did today, but maybe less intense?" Arnold felt like he was betraying his own agreement by admitting this to Gerald.

"Better," Gerald nodded. "Why do you _think_ that is?"

"I…." Arnold was once again interrupted.

"I'm gonna just tell you," Gerald said, not wanting to play this game all _night._ "There has _always_ been something _between_ you two, a _bond_ you don't have with _any_ other female in the gang. Why is that? Because you both started with shitty lives that the rest of us were lucky not to have. Has this bond always been _just_ friends, in my opinion no. But there is _something_ between you two, and it's powerful _._ But you have to be the ones to figure out _what_ it is."

"Are you saying," Arnold asked slowly, watching as his best friend stood up, moving to place the chair back at the desk. "That you think there's _feelings_ there?"

Gerald walked to the door, hand on the knob as he looked over his shoulder at the blonde.

"I don't know, man. Are there feelings? Only you two can figure that out."

* * *

Okay, so for real, after this chapter, there won't be another posting for a while. It's just that you all have been so loyal and extremely kind and I kinda felt shitty for leaving you without a chapter so randomly. I'll keep writing and hopefully have a collection of chapters when I come back, but I think I'll continue to upload one at a time.

A huge shout out to Writer25 and HappyLittlePychopath for their editing and help with this quick chapter!

I'll see you when I come back!

Lovelyseoulwriter


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, lovely people! I"m back!

I've spent a lot of time thinking, writing, deleting, and re-writing this chapter and I like the outcome. It shows a different side of Helga that makes her still the strong person we know and love but also reminds us that everyone is human and no matter what happens or who we are, we all have fears and insecurities!

I am so extremely excited for you all to read the next chapter, which will be filled with ups, downs, drama, and everything else that creates the dynamic duo of Arnold and Helga!

AN: The **Bo** **ld** is Arnold's thoughts and the _Italics_ are Helga's. They are happening at the same time but that would be confusing, so I tried! I'm sorry!

* * *

"I love you," Arnold breathed, his voice coming out in a rushed whisper, low and sincere as his right hand reached out to touch her, to comfort her before stopping halfway.

He sighed heavily, running said hand through his unruly blonde hair, his face hidden by the thick blanket of leaves blocking out the moonlight.

A slight breeze picked up around them, moving the tails of his gently worn flannel shirt, the one she wore every night they had spent together, every night he _lied_ with every gentle kiss against her skin and sharp thrust of his hips.

Helga knew there was more, a final blow that would pierce through her chest and shatter her heart.

"But I'm not _in_ _love_ with you." _There it was._ His voice was quiet enough to be carried away with the sound of the wind and rusting leaves, his emerald eyes focused on something over her right shoulder.

She stood there, her face blank despite the storm of emotions swirling in her mind, her arms wrapped slowly around her body, her hands gripping her forearms as she formed a barrier around her, from the cold and _him_.

Helga frantically tried to pinpoint the exact moment he had caused her guard to fall, how he had managed to break down her carefully constructed, high stone walls leaving her exposed and alone.

"Okay," she whispered, hating how her voice resembled a child getting reprimanded, weak, scared, and fragile. A burning sensation filled her nose, tears forming at the corners of her eye, threatening to blur the edge of her vision.

Helga was _not_ going to give him yet _another_ reason of why she was too broken to be loved; her right hand lifting up to forcefully wipe the tear away. He was _never_ going to love her, not like she loved him. _Why would he?_

"Okay," Arnold nodded, his attention immediately entranced by a leggy redhead in a short black dress walking by with exaggerated swaying hips and soft red lips that promised sin.

The redhead let her eyes lazily linger down Arnold, approval shining in her eyes as she bit her lip in and continued walking, looking over her shoulder at Arnold and winking.

Helga sighed, a bitter taste left on her tongue as she watched Arnold walk towards the redhead, not once looking back as he knelt before her, leaned forward and kissed her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

He would _always_ be chasing after something unattainable and she would _never_ be good enough. She wanted to be mad, to scream and remind him that this whole fucking mess was _his_ idea, but she couldn't. She couldn't blame him.

* * *

"Fuck," Helga whispered, shooting up in her bed, her breathing coming out in pants as her right hand pressed against the harsh hammering of her heart slamming against her ribcage.

The dream had felt _so_ real, his words, the pain, the _girl_. The neck of her gray t-shirt was soaked with sweat, droplets of sweat ran down her forehead and neck.

Her ocean blue eyes scanned around her empty, dark bedroom, unsure if she was looking for Arnold or the leggy redhead. Luckily, she found neither.

Helga reached over to her bedside table, fingers fumbling around the old wooden nightstand as she felt for the cold metal of her phone. She found it, hitting the home button, cringing at the sudden brightness as she checked the time; 5:30 AM.

She pulled her legs up to her chest under the comforter, the fabric feeling hot against her shins as she wrapped her arms around her knees and cradled her head on the peak of her knees, his words echoing around in her head.

 _I love you, but I'm not in love with you._

Helga turned her head to look out the window, watching the few cars out this early driving past on the street below, the roads dimly lit by the mixture of neatly spaced street lamps and headlights.

Her body felt restless, adrenaline pounding through her veins. She knew she wasn't going to get anymore sleep and it was far too early to wake Phoebe, even for a morning run. Arnold briefly crossed her mind, but she pushed it away, not ready to face him just yet.

Helga tossed the covers off her hot body, briefly enjoying the sudden rush of cold before swinging her feet to the hardwood floor and fumbling around the dark room looking for clothes.

* * *

Arnold smiled, chuckling quietly to himself and shaking his head as he listened through the wall to Helga shuffling around her room, occasionally mumbling a string of curse words.

He couldn't get back to sleep, his dream of standing on a rooftop in the pouring rain, confessing his feelings to Helga, only to have her face contort in disgust and permanently walk out of his life felt all too _real_. He woke up, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest.

Arnold laid over his sheets, his comforter pushed off to the side as his body was just _too_ _hot_. A pair of headlights ran around his wall, his eyes following them lazily before they disappeared.

His mind replayed Gerald's words, echoing around his head as a picture of Helga with a disappointed look etched on her beautiful face as _I love you_ spilled out of his mouth. He sighed, listening to her curse again, before hearing her bedroom door open. And then it went silent.

Arnold lifted up onto his elbows, half hoping she would knock on his door and ask if he was awake, then proceeding to spend the rest of the morning whispering back and forth while he pretended not to be analyzing if he had feelings for her while simultaneously counting the freckles scattered on the bridge of her nose.

His body slumped in slight disappointment when he heard the front door close.

* * *

Helga was good at running; from her family issues, from problems she didn't want to confront, from _him_. Her lungs and chest burned as she ran down the sidewalk, her backpack digging into her back with every step.

She didn't stop at lights or for cars, ignoring the sound of horns blaring when she ran in front of them. She didn't apologize when she bumped into the few pedestrians walking to work, enjoying the remainder of the nice weather before it got cold- she just kept running.

Her white headphones buzzed with Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You when she reached the old building, her hands gripping the door handle, flinging it open as her Converse squeaked against the old, stained linoleum.

Helga ran to the stairs, sprinting up them two at a time until she reached the top floor, not stopping as she took a sharp right and sprinted down the long hallway to the door at the end.

She slowed her pace as she got closer, taking deeper breaths as her fingers wrapped gingerly around the dull, brass knob that lost its shine _years_ _ago_. She pushed the door open, smiling at the familiar room she called home.

 _Click._

The low electrical hum of the fluorescent overhead lights made the anxiety drain from her body as she looked at the place where she was safe from judgement or pain.

This room that would _never_ hurt her, feel animosity towards her for not visiting or play games with her emotions- it was another constant in her life.

Helga leaned her right shoulder against the old wooden door frame, some stray, broken pieces of wood piercing her sweatshirt as she watched the old, unused studio become illuminated in bright lights.

She loved being first to the dance studio, the one the girls and occasionally the guys met at to dance before Helga started avoiding Arnold. She missed dancing, but it was such an obvious place for Arnold, or anybody really, to look that she would be cornered.

Helga smiled, enjoying the smell the old room accumulated as she walked in, kicking the door closed behind her, the tempered glass shaking in its loose socket of the door. She'd been meaning to fix that for months now, just never had the time.

She walked quickly across the hardwood floor, her movements graceful and fluent despite her feet stomping with each step.

Helga set her phone, making sure the volume was on, and her backpack against the wall, reaching down to pull the edge of her sweatshirt over her head, catching a glimpse of herself in the full length, full wall mirror.

An image of the leggy redhead in the short black dress appeared next to her in the mirror, causing her to drop her sweatshirt behind her and walk over to stand closer to the mirror, her critical blue eyes trailing sharply down her body.

Helga could hear her mom's voice, slurred and drunk from the dining room table as she reminding Helga all the reasons that she _wasn't_ Olga, all the reasons she was always going to be unlovable.

She looked at her reflection, the image of the leggy redhead next to her smirked as her eyes lazily scanned Helga's body, her perfect eyebrow raised, clearly unimpressed.

Helga looked at the oversized flannel that was hanging off her shoulders, the one that Arnold gave her after they were caught in a serious thunderstorm. The one that he wore in her _dream._

She sighed, turning away from the mirror to retrieve her phone and start warming up. There were an infinite number of reasons, mostly to do with her personality and looks but it was already, she lifted her wrist to check the analog watch on her right arm; 6:45 and the girls were going to be here at 7:30.

Helga didn't have much time left and she wasn't going to waste what little time of solitude she had left listing all the reasons why Arnold could never love her, she could do that when she was dancing.

* * *

Arnold's eyes followed Helga's every move as she sat on the floor, back to the wall, stretching with the other girls. She had both legs spread in front of her, leaning forward until her back was flat and her nose was pressed between the small gap her legs made.

She laughed at something Lila and Phoebe had said, tilting her head to the side to smile up at both girls before spreading her legs apart and touching her nose to her left knee, her hand wrapping firmly around her shoe.

He chuckled, shaking his head at how breathless it came out when Gerald appeared beside him, laughed when the blonde jumped slightly. He glared up at Gerald who just shrugged and sat down beside him.

"Hey," Gerald, smirked, holding out a fresh cup of coffee, his eyes playful. He noticed Arnold watching Helga more and he couldn't help but wonder if his words had gotten through to Arnold. "What's up?"

Arnold _knew_ Gerald wasn't starting a conversation, but he didn't want to have this conversation, not here and certainly not now. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep and was more likely to let something _slip_ if he wasn't careful. So he did what he did best, he played dense.

"Not a whole lot," Arnold answered, taking a sip of his coffee and instantly burning the roof of his mouth. He cringed as the hot liquid burned his throat, ignoring the annoyed look Gerald was giving him. "You?" This would have worked better if they didn't _live together._

"We both know…" Gerald started, interrupted by Sid, Stinky, Harold, and Brian, formerly known as Brainy, sat down around them. Arnold gave each a head nod, secretly grateful for the distraction as his eyes went back to watch Helga.

She was now standing, the muscles in her calves and arms were strong and prominent, although not overly, especially for someone as with such a lean form.

Arnold's eyes trailed to her, his shirt and he felt a sudden rush of pride course through his veins. He never knew how much of a turn on it could be to see her wear his clothes. He knew _everyone_ knew that was _his_ shirt, it was obvious from the way it hung off her shoulders and the way the sleeves hung past her hands, and he couldn't help but feel slightly possessive.

His mind flashed back to their interaction with James, how little control he had over his emotions and actions and how badly he had overreacted, evident by Helga's actions and Gerald's talk later that night.

Arnold shook his head, noticing Eugene walk through the door and immediately up to Helga, putting his arms around her waist and lifting her into a hug. It was how he greeted all the girls, but it took everything in Arnold not to walk over, punch Eugene hard in the face, throw Helga over his shoulder and find a room with a lock.

* * *

"What's up with Arnold?" Eugene leaned in to whisper to Helga, his voice low and playful as he watched Arnold out of the corner of his peripheral. He made sure to continue facing Helga straight on, but angle himself so he could also see the gang off to the side.

For a guy who had grown up being labeled as passive, it would seem he _did_ have a possessive side and did not like Eugene's, or _any guy's_ arm, according to Gerald, around Helga's waist. Maybe he's finally become less dense.

"Whatever do you mean?" Helga asked, playing innocence as she begged her body not to react at the dark, uncertain gaze Arnold was now giving her. Eugene's hand came out wrap around her waist, noticing how Arnold's jaw tensed. _If only I wasn't gay, I could have fun with this._

"You know exactly what I mean," Eugene laughed, placing her right hand on his shoulder, grabbing her other hand in his, and started to lead her across the room, Ed Sheeran's Dive playing in the background.

* * *

Arnold could not _shake_ the imagine of Helga with another guy, one he didn't know since Pre-K and _wasn't_ gay. Someone who, when they were dancing and he dipped her, she would smile and leaned up for a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

His fingernails dug into his palms as his hands curled into fists, his eyes watching as Eugene's left hand wrapped firmly around her waist, fingers spread against the back of her shirt in support as he dipped her low, her long blonde hair brushing against the floor from her ponytail.

Arnold had to admit that Eugene and Helga has a type of bond that was unbreakable, something they've had since high school. Helga was the first person, after his family that Eugene came out to, and she trusted him with her life.

He wondered if he felt jealous of their bond, his answer evident when her hands gripped his shoulder, as support but also with love, the kind he was sure she would never reciprocate towards him.

It was at that moment, that Arnold could think of an infinite number of reasons why Gerald might be right.

* * *

 **A: Helga danced with a type of controlled power, demanding attention while moving with grace and poise. It matched her personality and why he was grateful for her to be a heavy part of his life.**

 _H: Arnold couldn't physically love someone like me, someone who comes from such a broken and fuck up past. He would constantly be trying to fix me; and that's not love._

 **A: Her ocean blue eyes are always alight with passion, hypnotizing and pulling you further and further into her mystery. Challenging you to uncover the mystery that always surrounds her.**

 _H: His ex-girlfriends shows he has a type, a world he's drawn to that she will never fit in to._

 _A:_ **I wish she could see how beautiful I think she is, how beautiful the world sees her-even when she's a mess and her world is crumbling. She's strong and loyal- and that's true beauty.**

* * *

Arnold stood, his mind cloudy as he almost knocked over his and Gerald's coffee by his feet. He walked across the floor, eyes watching as Eugene spun Helga away from him, before smirking and turning to look at Arnold.

Eugene knew what was about to happen, he turned and walked past Arnold, clapping his shoulder once before moving to sit with the rest of the gang, but Arnold just watched Helga.

She was still dancing, waiting for "Eugene to follow and catch her, her eyes eye closed as she let the music control her.

Arnold caught up to her in three long strides, smirking at her silent gasp as his left hand caught her waist and his right caught her open hand. He knew their dance, he had watched it over and over and over again, so he listened to where they were in the choreography.

Helga didn't say anything, her back pressed against his hard chest as she looked at them in the mirror. They looked like a happy couple, the ones that have been in love with each other for _years_ and were high school sweethearts, but they weren't, they'd never be.

Instead, replaced her face with the leggy redhead, cringing at how hard of a blow it was to her self esteem.

"What are you thinking about?" Arnold asked, his low, smooth voice pulling her away from her intrusive thoughts, her body tense as he guided her across the floor.

"Nothing," Helga lied, biting her lip at how breathless her voice sounded. She stared hard at a pattern on his button down, avoiding his eyes because he _knew_ she was lying.

He dipped her, an unscripted added part of the dance and it caught her off guard, her breath catching as his fingers spread out against her back, his lips barely brushing against the pressure point on her neck.

"Liar," Arnold teased, his eyes dropping to her lips as he her pulled her up and continued to lead her around the floor. _Are there feelings? Only you two can figure that out._

He studied her as they danced, the way her eyes wouldn't meet his or the way her teeth bit slightly into her bottom lip both cautiously and enticing, pulling him deeper and deeper in. _Are there feelings?_

Arnold dipped her for the final time, this time she was ready as her leg lifted wrap around his waist, pulling their cores closer until they blended into one. He swore he saw and felt fireworks.

 _Are there feelings? Do you feel what I feel?_

He looked down, his eyes gazing over her slightly exposed collarbones, the way her skin begged to be kissed and touched.

 _Is this just sexual or is there more?_

Arnold's mind drifted to them at 60 years old, dancing around the small kitchen, her head on his chest as the radio hummed a soft, unidentifiable song. How their wedding rings gleamed against the light, plain and simple, just the way she liked it as she looked up at him and smiled.

He was aware of their friends all watching them, he could imagine the smiles and smirks on their faces but all he could think about was _her._

"Helga," Arnold breathed, his voice somewhere between a whine and begging. He didn't know what was going to follow her name, but he was pretty sure it was going to be something like _I think I'm in love with you._

He could already imagine her face contorting into a look, either disgust or disappointment and pushing him and all their years of friendship away.

 _Was it worth it? Was she?_

 _Yes,_ he thought, _but I need more time. She's different than other girls._

He pulls away slightly, looking down at her, his eyes following as she pushes a piece of stray hair from in front of her face to behind her ear, a small gesture but one that made his stomach turn into knots.

Arnold leans in, like he's going to kiss her before his lips curled into a smirk and his lips brushed against the outer shell of her ear.

"Go on a date with me," he whispers, his voice low and sincere as he pulls away and looks at her. He could see the hesitation building on her face, the anxiety building as he braced himself for her rejection.

Helga bites her lip, her eyes searching his. He doesn't know what she's looking for, but it doesn't seem like she found it, and he doesn't know if that was good or damning.

"Okay," Helga whispers, hesitancy evident in her voice as she pulls away and walks slowly back to the gang.

* * *

Thank you all to have been patient with me throughout my vacation and move! I hit a rough patch of writing but I think I've overcome it, or I hope I have.

A HUGE shoutout to Writer25 and HappyLittlePsychopath for once again editing and constantly bouncing ideas with me!

I hope to not have such a huge gap between this chapter and the next, but I can't rush the relationship or writing process! Thank you, once again for your patience and I will see you soon!

Lovelyseoulwriter


	11. Chapter 11

Two uploads in ONE WEEK? What is HAPPENING?!

I was just so excited to write this chapter and next two or three that I started almost quite literally after the last chapter was uploaded. I really like how this turned out and hope you feel the same! Eeep, I'm so freaking excited!

Also, this is THE LONGEST chapter I've ever written thus far- 5,138 words!

* * *

Arnold stood in front of the floor length mirror that hung off the back of his door, his skilled fingers fidgeting with thin, black fabric of his tie, trying to make it lay flat under his stiff, black collar.

The emerald eyes of his reflection glared back hard, seemingly unimpressed with his current outfit choice. He sighed, running his right hand through damp blonde hair, messing it up from the slicked back hairstyle he had _finally_ settled on.

Arnold had already changed outfits four times and it was, he lifted his left wrist to check the black analog watch; the time reading 6:30.

He had thirty minutes before he was to meet Helga in their living room for their _date._ He couldn't help but hope that she was having a similarly difficult time getting ready and it wasn't just him.

Arnold looked over his reflection with critical eyes, his right hand moving his tie so it was more in the center, which was pointless as it just moved back the minute he let go. He couldn't help thinking some cosmic being was messing with him.

He heard a single knock on his bedroom door, momentarily panicking that it was Helga cancelling last minute. He was thinking of reasons to change her mind, if that was the case, when Gerald's head popped in, smirking at him from around the door.

"How's it going?" Gerald asked, smirking as he looked around at the discarded clothes thrown carelessly around Arnold's floor.

"Stop _laughing_ and _help_ me like a _good_ friend," Arnold muttered, taking a step back to let Gerald in, his eyes never leaving the mirror.

He ran his hands down the fabric of his black button down, smoothing imaginary wrinkles before tugging lightly on the ends, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth in concentration.

"You look _fine_ ," Gerald emphasized, moving to plop down on the edge of Arnold's bed, leaning back as his friend continued his useless nitpicking. _He's going to drive himself mad_.

"I need to look a _little_ more than _fine_ , Gerald," Arnold said, turning to the left, pausing to check out the outfit from that angle before turning to the right.

"Just out of curiosity, how many times have you changed?" Gerald asked, raising his eyebrow as the blonde man momentarily paused before mumbling something over his shoulder.

"What was that?" Gerald asked, leaning closer to the blonde while cupping his ear in mock strain to hear him. "I didn't quite _hear_ you."

"Four," Arnold bit out, doing one last check-over before, turning around to face Gerald, his hands out to his sides in a "ta-da" fashion. "Not planning on changing again. What do you think? Too much?"

It was at this moment that Gerald had an option, he could either tell Arnold he looked fine or cause a bit of mischief and have a little _fun_ of his own. The answer was obvious.

He stood, his face neutral looking as walked slow circles around Arnold, his eyes darting around the outfit, looking for nothing in particular.

Arnold felt more and more anxious the longer he just _stood_ there, watching as Gerald circled him like a bird following its prey. He finally had enough, reaching out to push Gerald lightly on the shoulder, his expression filled with un-amusement and anxiousness as he turned back to the mirror.

"You're a lot of help," Arnold muttered under his breath, checking his watch to find that only twenty minutes had passed, which only left ten minutes to create a _good_ first impression for Helga.

"Chillax, brother," Gerald laughed, shaking his head as he clapped the blonde's shoulder once, moving to stand beside him in front of the mirror.

"Ditch the tie," he said as he reached out, grabbing the tie and giving it a small yank, pulling it loose and out from Arnold's collar.

"And you'll look more relaxed, which is _better_ than _fine_." Arnold rolled his eyes before smoothing down his collar and looking at himself in the mirror, telling himself repeatedly to just relax.

Gerald was right, without the tie, he looked more casual and relaxed, which are good vibes to send out during a first date with someone extremely important in his life.

Sensing his work here was done, he headed for Arnold's bedroom door, pausing as he seemed to remember something. He looked over his shoulder at Arnold, his eyes shining with amusement and laughter.

"Remember to breathe and give her one hell of a night she'll _never_ forget."

* * *

Helga groaned in frustration, watching her reflection as her long fingers released her long, damp hair, letting it waterfall out of her hand and down her back. This was the _fifteenth_ hairstyle she had considered.

She'd been staring at her reflection for the past ten minutes, trying to find the perfect hairstyle that didn't convey her inward feelings that screamed _I'm anxious._ It wasn't working.

Every hairstyle had made her look either like she was trying too hard or not enough- she couldn't find the one that looked casual. Like it was _normal_ to go on a "date" with a guy you've known practically your _whole_ life.

Helga started messing with her hair, twisting it in her hands and gathering it in on a messy blob on top of her head-the groan muffled by ponytail holder wedged between her teeth.

There was a small rapid fire of knocks, and Helga briefly panicked that it was Arnold telling her that this was a mistake and he was calling off the date.

She held her breath until raven hair appeared around the door and Phoebe's head poked in, her hand curled around the edge of the door.

"Just checking in," Phoebe said, tilting her head to the left as she watched Helga let go of her hair and sigh. "How's it going?"

Helga shrugged, her energy draining from the amount of times she lifted and held her arms up and the date hadn't even _started_ yet.

Phoebe moved inside the bedroom, shutting the door behind her as she moved to sit on Helga's bed, crossing her legs as she waited for Helga to ask her for help.

"I have _no_ idea what to do about my hair," Helga said, turning her head to the left and then the right before turning to face Phoebe, a silent look of plea shining in her eyes.

"My hair has the same characteristics as I do apparently, stubborn and with a bad attitude."

Phoebe just hummed, neither in agreement or disagreement as she gently pushed the blonde backwards into the desk chair, grabbing the hairbrush off the end of the bed and starting to run it through her curls. .

"How are you feeling?" Phoebe asked, disguising the question as small talk but also secretly doing a mental and emotional check on the obviously anxious girl. She had a horrible habit of running and Phoebe was going to make sure that _didn't_ happen.

She sectioned of a semi thick piece of hair, not directly down the middle, slightly to the left and started braiding tightly, still waiting for the blonde's answer.

Helga looked at Phoebe through the mirror, holding her gaze for a fraction of a second before they dropped to her jeans.

It didn't take much time for Phoebe to know the thoughts rampaging and causing havoc in the blonde's head.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Phoebe asked, probing the blonde slowly as to avoid her shutting down and locking herself in her room for the next two weeks.

She sectioned off another piece to the right of the middle, starting to braid down the side of her head as she gently nudged the blonde's shoulder.

"Not _second thoughts_ exactly," Helga answered slowly, knowing Phoebe wouldn't stop until she explained what she had meant. The problem was, she didn't know how to explain what she was feeling either, she was completely lost.

Helga picked at a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of her flowy pink spaghetti strap top, the one with the shoulders cut out and see through mesh sleeves that stopped halfway down her forearm.

"Just _curious_ as to _why_ he asked me, _me_ of all people. Like, I'm trying to figure out his motives and all that makes logical sense is that I'm a…"

"Pity date?" Phoebe finishes softly, sighing as she twists Helga's hair a few times before securing it with a hair tie. She takes a step back to admire, her work before spinning Helga around in the chair, forcing ocean blue eyes to meet warm chocolate.

"This isn't a pity date and you _know_ that," Phoebe says slowly, making sure her words carry weight as they sink into her thick headed best friend. "Maybe he has _feelings_ or maybe he's trying to figure things out, like you are. Give him the benefit of the doubt and _enjoy_ your night."

She spins Helga back around so she can look at her hair in the mirror, a single braid coming down either side of her head and meeting at the base of her neck, before moving up the back of her neck to wrap around the base of her ponytail.

 _Elegant but doesn't scream I'm_ desperate. _Thank you Phoebe_! Helga reaches back to awkwardly hug the blonde, then reaching over to her bed to check her phone, noticing a missed text from Arnold from 6 letting her know he "Couldn't wait to see her and was super excited".

She shook her head, biting her lip to hide the stupid smile that spread on her lips and checked the time, 6:55. She stood up, grabbing her small black purse, checking for her wallet before looking over at Phoebe.

"Ready?" Phoebe asked from the bedroom door, searching the blonde's face for any signs of she might bail _._

"As I'll ever be," Helga answers, taking a deep breath before walking to the door and flicking off the light.

* * *

"Quit _pacing_ ," Gerald calls from the couch, his attention on the TV, catching the tail end of Arnold flipping him off out of his peripheral.

He took another sip of now warm beer, his attention being evenly divided between the newest episode of Game of Thrones and his best friend wearing ruts in their wooden floor with his Converse and quick turns.

Arnold checked his watch, still having four minutes, before looking at Helga's closed door. He walked towards the couch, plopping down beside Gerald, his head leaning back against the couch.

"I'm nervous and _allowed_ to be," Arnold replies, immediately feeling restless as he moves to sit up, getting ready to start pacing again when Gerald's arm shoots across his chest, effectively stopping him.

"Try and relax," Gerald sighs, setting his beer on a coaster before turning to face him, his hand running tiredly through his Afro. He'd been trying to calm Arnold down for almost fifteen minutes and nothing he said or did _was working_.

"She's probably _just_ as nervous and two nervous people going on a date highly amplifies your chance of screwing up. _So_ calm down and

just have a good time," Gerald wiggles his eyebrows at his last statement causing Arnold to shake his head, despite the smile and push Gerald's shoulder.

"Not _everything_ is about sex," Arnold justifies, blushing and looking away as Gerald raises an eyebrow, that look that says _whatever you say_.

Arnold admits that his defense is a tad _weak_ , his cheeks reddening as his mind flashed back to their last sexual meetup, but tonight wasn't about sex. It was about figuring out his feelings and emotions and if there was _more_ there.

Gerald pulls Arnold out of his thoughts by pushing at his shoulder, urging him to turn around.

When Arnold did, slowly and with hesitancy, he saw Helga walk out of her room with Phoebe beside her, mid conversation as her hand subconsciously moved up to play with her hair. She just laughed nervously, biting her bottom lip when Phoebe knocked her hand away.

"Damn," Arnold whistled lowly, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck as as his breath left in an explosive rush. Helga looked up, hearing a slight whistle and smiled shyly at him as the girls slowly made their way over to Arnold and Gerald.

"Looking fine, Pataki," Gerald commented, leaning down to kiss Phoebe and wrap an arm securely around her waist. He whispered something in her ear to which she nodded, her cheeks slightly pink as her attention went back to the two blondes.

"You look beaut…great," Arnold corrected, cringing at the the way Phoebe and Gerald were shaking their head at him.

He looked at Helga, watching as her lips curled slightly into a smile-and he had to remind himself not to pull her to him and kiss her. He'd have to watch his thoughts, words, and actions tonight.

"Thank you," Helga replied, her voice hesitant as her eyes drifted lazily down and then back up his body. He looked _hot._ "You look handsome yourself."

He was wearing a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows, dark blue washed jeans that looked almost black in certain lighting, and a pair of red Converse.

His hair was slightly slicked back but it had that messy look, like he just rolled out of bed, ran his fingers through it a couple times and called it good. She wondered just _who_ he was trying to impress.

"Ready?" Arnold asked, grabbing his jacket from the armrest of the couch before walking towards her, already having to resist the urge to put his hand on the small of her back or put his arm around her waist as they walked out the door.

* * *

Arnold had planned the date, so he chose a familiar restaurant within walking distance from their apartment, since it was a beautiful night out and one of the last few weeks of nice weather before it was officially winter.

He had his hands stuffed in the front pocket of his jeans to resist the urge to grab her hand when they brushed each other. The narrow sidewalk already caused his arm to bump hers with every other step.

Arnold looked over at her, studying her while she was extremely focused on the copious amount of cracks in the old sidewalk.

She was dressed in simple clothes, ones that showcased her curves and lean body while keeping her modest. Only _he_ knew what was under those clothes and that's the way it was going to stay. _What? Where did that come from?_

He shook his head, stopping himself before he gained her attention and went back to secretly admiring her. _God, he sounded so creepy._

Helga had on simple makeup, black eyeliner that winged out just right and a light shade of pink lipgloss, _or was it lipstick?_ that coated her lips, gleaming occasionally when it caught the light of the street lamps. She looked perfect and for some reason it was making him extremely nervous.

Arnold hated how awkward things felt. They were both usually so articulate when they held conversations, whether alone or with the gang but currently it hadn't progressed past how their weeks were going, the weather, and if they were ready for finals coming up.

He avoided bringing up the topic of James and Helga was thoroughly relieved and grateful. He sighed, about to comment on something trivial when she asked him a question. _The question._ It was so quiet and low yet it cut through the air like static.

"Why did you ask _me_ out on a date?" Arnold hated how she emphasized the word me, like she thought this was the most unbelievable thing to ever happen.

It sounded innocent enough to anyone passing by them on the streets, like a woman fishing for compliments but he _knew_ her and could _hear_ , even without looking at her the hesitation and caution in her voice.

Arnold stopped walking, catching her left arm to prevent her from continuing to walk away from him, before turning her around, his hand slipping under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Because I _want_ to," Arnold answered, his voice raw with hope, lust, and something else that neither blonde could place.

His eyes searched hers for a sign that she understood, that she _believed_ him while hers searched his, frantically looking for something she _wasn't_ seeming to be able to _find._

"Okay," Helga said, her voice teetering between sounding like she wanted to believe him and wanting to run. She turned, ready to continue walking in their awkward silence when Arnold pulled her against him, their lips touching in almost an innocent, gentle kiss.

It didn't feel rushed because they were in-between classes or because they were back to being horny teenagers and it had been a while- it was the kind of kiss that made everything, _everybody_ in the world disappear.

Arnold's body automatically melted into the kiss, her body feeling familiar and safe as his mind went blank.

Helga's body felt like it was getting electrocuted, every piece of hair on her arm stood up and goosebumps trailed over every inch of skin, seen and unseen.

He pulled away first, both needing air but neither wanting to break the kiss first and leaned his forehead to rest against her, his eyes closing in contentment.

Arnold had girlfriends before, but none of them left his heart pounding, lungs gasping for lungs, and his body feeling like it was _floating._. He kissed her forehead gently, lovingly.

 _Because I might be falling in love with you,_ hung dangerously on the edge of his tongue.

* * *

The restaurant was nothing fancy, a small Chinese restaurant about three blocks from their apartment. It wasn't busy during the week, which puzzled Arnold and Helga since their food was absolutely amazing and extremely affordable. Especially for college students living

on that college student's budget.

The restaurant held happy memories for the four roommates, late nights on Friday, greeting the owner and his wife before grabbing a grabbing a booth in the back left corner.

They'd order a copious amount of food and end up swapping food between the four. There were even a few times the gang met with them, pushing together two or three tables instead of fitting into the booth.

Tonight, the atmosphere held different energy, because it was _just_ the blonde's, the "non-couple" of the group. The owner would always tell them how "cute they looked together", to which they'd smile, shake their heads and vehemently deny it.

They sat in the same booth they usually do, Helga sliding into one side while Arnold slid into the other. It was weird not sitting together, but it was easier to talk and he wouldn't pass up an excuse to constantly look at her.

Arnold smiled at her, a way to calm her nerves, watching with extreme fascination as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She opened the menu, despite getting the same thing every time. Maybe she'd try something different tonight.

The waitress, a young Chinese woman, the daughter of the owner and wife, stopped by to take their drink order, smiling at them before looking up at the sound of the bell. She told them she'd be "right back" before walking away and flinging herself at unknown male with raven hair that hung in his face.

Her parents watched with disgust from behind the counter as the couple kissed, rather passionately against a table.

Arnold and Helga looked at each other, slightly uncomfortable before breaking out into laughter, immediately shattering the awkwardness that surrounded them and settling into a more relaxed mood.

* * *

"...And that's how I won $50 from both Rhonda and Lila. Each," Helga finished, dipping her chopsticks into the soy sauce before grabbing a pinch of noodles and stuffing them into her mouth.

She was distracted by the spray of soy sauce as she slurped her noodles that she missed the fond smile and half-lidded eyes Arnold was giving her.

"Lila isn't too big of shock," Arnold laughed, grabbing a pot sticker from his right and popping it into his mouth, his mouth watering from the delicate mix of flavors. "But _never_ Rhonda."

Arnold grabbed some sticky, white rice, dipping it into the soy sauce before moving it to his mouth- not fast enough as some missed and landed on the table.

"Neither did I," Helga laughed, partially because of the humorous situation of Arnold eating rice and partially because of insane her story _actually_ sounded.

She took a sip of her water, setting her chopsticks on her plate, she leaned back, her eyes closed in contentment as she let her head fall back against the booth.

Arnold wanted to take a picture of this _exact_ moment and recreate it every day for the rest of his life. Her sitting opposite of him at their favorite restaurant, opening the menu, despite already knowing what they want, sharing food-the only differences would be she would be _his_ at the end of the night and he could kiss her.

"Whenever you're ready," the waitress replied, clearing some dishes as she left the check on the edge of the table. Arnold immediately grabbed for it, his hand covering Helga's as they both stared at each other.

"You're _not_ paying," Helga stated, pulling the bill closer to her and raising an eyebrow that screamed for him to _do something._

"It's only _fair_ ," Arnold replied, pulling the bill towards himself, leaning forward against the table. "I'm the one that asked _you_ on a date."

Her heart fluttered at that but she forced it down and mimicked his actions, causing them to be nose to nose. The owner and his wife watched silently in amusement from behind the front counter.

"This is the 21st century," Helga said, becoming aware that his thumb had started rubbing soothing patterns against her skin. She forced her eyes to stay on his as she wondered if this was a tactic to make her let go. "I'm perfectly _capable_ of paying for my own meal, _Football Head."_

Arnold's heart kicked into overdrive, his lips wanting to curl into that stupid too big smile. He would have honestly agreed to let her pay, at least for _her half_ after a few more rounds of playful bickering, but her calling him that lit something in him that made him feel defiant.

"I'm not saying you're incapable," Arnold said, his voice low and like velvet. His thumb was pressing gently into when palm, hidden as her hand was under his and face down.

They continued arguing until she made the mistake of going to the bathroom and _leaving_ the check. _Rookie mistake._

Arnold had the bill paid, signed, and the waitress was handed her tip by the time she got back out. He was sitting down but the black checkbook wasn't on the table and he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

He stood, greeting her with a toothy smile as she lowered her eyes, hands on her hips-then it hit her.

"You paid," Helga said, and he _knew_ it wasn't a question. He didn't answer, simply shrugging as he grabbed his jacket, took another sip of his Coke and guided her gently out of the restaurant, waving to the employees before exiting.

"Ass," Helga laughed, turning to punch him in the arm once outside the restaurant. He just smiled, secretly hoping this could become a tradition of theirs and next time, he might even let her pay.

* * *

Arnold wouldn't tell Helga what was next, leading her down the sidewalk they take to get to class. He had found a new bar called _The Iron Maiden_ one afternoon and being the history buff he was, he wanted to check it out-not to mention Helga _loved_ puns.

He smiled as she raised an eyebrow at him, letting him guide her to the line, chatting idly as they waited for their ID's to be checked by the bouncer. Once inside, they headed straight for the wrap around bar.

It was a nice, small place, filled mostly with college students with sweaty bodies, grinding their frustration and hormones away with complete strangers. It was lit solely by multi-colored strobe lights and luckily was air-conditioned.

There were five young college men as bartenders, three of which were mixing drinks while the other two ran drinks to tables. "Fancy," Arnold whispered, nodding at a bartender running a pitcher of beer to a table of clearly underage girls.

The DJ was half hidden on a platform, bouncing around to a song with a pounding bass line. The blondes straddled a barstool, Arnold ordering a beer while Helga ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, wanting to start slow before diving into her usual rotations of hard drinks.

"What do you think?" Arnold leaned over and whispered in her ear, causing goosebumps to run down her spine and the exposed skin of her arm.

Helga looked around at the gray interior, the dim lighting make it look almost metallic before looking at him with a smirk. "It's just like you," Helga laughed, tapping his nose as she thanked the bartender for her drink. She took a long sip from the thin black straw before continuing. "To bring me here for your own personal gain."

Arnold gasped in mock offense, grabbing his chest before shaking his head, taking a long sip of beer and looking over to smile over at her.

They continued drinking, Helga with two Long Islands and one Gin and Coke down, finishing her fourth one when the music suddenly switched from a grinding song to dancing song with another deep bass line.

Helga leaned in, letting one hand purposely fall against his forearm while the other against his upper thigh, rubbing his leg slightly through the thick fabric.

She whispered _dance with me_ into his ear and there was no way in heaven or hell that he could have said no. She slipped off her barstool, dropping back the rest of her Gin and Coke before disappearing into the crowd of sweaty, drunk people.

Arnold downed the rest of his fourth beer, feeling his body start to react as he headed towards the direction she went. He was _always_ chasing her and she was always _just slipping_ out of his fingers. Every damn time.

His mind was cloudy as he made his way through people, groups, and couples, mumbling an apology when he found her, his jaw clenching tightly as a tall, muscular man with auburn, wavy hair and a backwards cap moved to wrap his hand around her waist.

Helga pulled away, obviously declining his invite but he was persistent, catching her off guard, causing her to stumble before catching her and pulling her towards him.

She tried to pull away but the message wasn't getting through to him-he leaned down to try and kiss her and Arnold saw red.

He weaved quicker through the crowd, not stopping to apologize to the people he pushed hard against the chest of the "frat boy".

The man stumbled back, Helga moving to stand behind Arnold, her hand squeezing his arm, a sign that it was time to go.

"...You're just a slut, you dumb bitch," the man slurred, stumbling slightly. "You should be grateful a man like me even pays attention to someone like _you_. Someone _un-fuckable."_

"Excuse you?" Helga said, moving to stand away from the barrier Arnold's body was providing.

"You heard me, you're a slut. A dumb, fucking bit…." No sooner had the words stumbled out of the guy's mouth was Arnold's fist connecting with the guy's face, successfully breaking his nose. The girls he was previously dancing and flirting with all gasped.

"She's _mine_ ," Arnold ground out, watching the guy hold his nose as he tried to stand again. "Don't you ever…."

He was pulled away by Helga, mumbling something about him being a frat boy and "not worth it". He tore his arm away from her, anger coursing through his veins.

Arnold saw a group of similar looking guys making their way through the crowd towards them. He wasn't in the mood to fight these guys, not when he had an uphill battle with Helga. It was like the universe was always against him.

He picked up Helga, throwing her over his right shoulder before walking off the dance floor, again not apologizing to the people he bumped into before walking out the door ignoring the looks from passersby as he looked for an alleyway.

Arnold put her down against the wall, taking a few steps back, he sighed heavily and ran his fingers through is hair over and over again. Helga just watched him, eyebrow raised and arms crossed tightly as she waited for him to explain what the _fuck_ just happened.

"You drive me absolutely insane," Arnold started, feeling the words tumbling out of his mouth without a filter- like a dam that broke loose and was destructing everything in its path.

"You make me feel possessive and cause me to act so irrational and I hate it. I fucking hate it."

Helga didn't know if it was the alcohol but her tone sounded defensive and accusing. "What _exactly_ are you _saying_?" Helga asks slowly, pushing off the wall to take a few step closer to Arnold.

She was buzzed, she knew she couldn't drive home but not enough to _forget_ this conversation or date. Even if she _really_ wanted to.

Arnold glares at her, his mind cloudy with a deadly cocktail of lust, anger, and the four beers he had drank without water in-between them. He wasn't a lightweight but damn, it was hitting him _hard_. _Don't blame the alcohol, not for this._

"My life would be so much _easier_ without you." His words were slow, as if it surprised even him that those words left his mouth.

Helga stood there, her hands dropping to her sides. She felt like he had suckerpunched her repeatedly in the stomach. She asked the question that had been on her mind all night.

"What was the point of asking me out then?" Her voice was low, dangerous and her eyes burned with pain, disappointment, and something else.

She wasn't a charity case and she didn't _need_ his pity. It seemed like he couldn't handle her not being in his life a month ago when he practically cornered her in the kitchen.

Helga remembered all the events that lead to this moment, all the fights, kisses, jealousy, and soft words and promises. She wondered if everything was just another notch of her belt loosened to get her out of her pants.

"Fuck you," Helga spat, turning sharply on her heel and walking alone down the dark alley.

* * *

A huge shout out to Writer25 and HappyLittlePsychopath for reading through and making sure this flows as smoothly as possible! Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, favorited, and followed- you've all made my day!

It's no-where near over for Arnold, but for Helga, it might be a tad difficult to continue interaction ESPECIALLY after what happens in the next chapter! Ah, I'm so freaking excited! Yay for character building!

Until next time,

Lovelyseoulwriter.


	12. Chapter 12

Hello!

Okay, so I updated this once already and had an awesome reader review and let me know some things were amiss! All the mentions of Jacob were changed to James, because I apparently can't keep names straight and I apologize! Also, the reason there are multiple girl names that start with S is because Arnold can't remember which one, which none of them are, is her actual name. I thought it was humorous but I apologize if it's confusing!

I'm sorry for the two weeks unintentional hiatus, I had really bad writer's block and didn't want to just put out a chapter. I like this chapter because it's a turning point for both Arnold and Helga, a place where both will have to make some hard decisions in the upcoming chapters! Just hold on, this is a happ(ish) ending story!

I also realized that I like to use the F word quite a lot when I'm portraying anger or frustration or really anything that's not happiness. I will try and use more colorful and crazy profanities moving forward!

* * *

" _Fuck_ ," Arnold curses, his voice low and coming out in an explosive whisper. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck!"_ His veins course with a mixture of frustration and adrenaline, his right hand raising slowly, curling into a tight fist as he spins around to face the brick wall.

His chest heaves heavily as he rashly launches himself forward, flattening his fist at the last minute so his palms slaps the brick instead as he leans forward to press his forehead against the wall.

Arnold's body instantly relaxes at the sudden cold feeling against the overbearing warmth of his skin, despite how cold and breezy the night has gotten.

He replayed the events of the night in his head, trying to pinpoint the _exact_ moment the night went from the best date he's ever had to a shit storm in a matter of hours.

The start seemed to be when he pushed and ultimately ended up punching the drunk frat-boy; the rest seemed to follow in a series of shitty events that lead him here.

He turned his head to the right in hopes of catching one last glimpse of the feisty blonde with ocean blue eyes who was always _just_ slipping out of his grasp.

Helga must have felt him watching because she looked over her shoulder for half a second c shook her head slightly, and disappeared into the dense crowd of happy drunks and passerby's.

Arnold pushed off the wall, his body already moving without command to follow her, as if off pure _instinct_.

He sighed, sliding both hands through his hair, letting pieces slip through the spaces of his fingers before he pulled, cringing at the sudden feeling of pain shooting through his scalp but glad to know he wasn't _fully numb._ That he could still _feel_ pain.

When he was arguing with her, or even when he was sitting on the barstool in the nightclub he only felt numb.

Like he was on auto-pilot and watching the events unravel from above his body, not in full control of his emotions, words, or actions. He didn't actually _feel_ anything until she touched his arm and wanted him to dance.

Arnold's head fell back to look at the sky, the clouds heavy with rain as they blended in with the dark color of the night and drifted by lazily, almost carefree.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in before bunching his hands into fists at his side and screaming. He screamed until his throat burned and his lungs begged for air, even then, he screamed for just a little bit longer.

Arnold stood in silence, listening to his screams echo around the alley before jumping as a young couple tapped his right shoulder, their faces a mix of concern and a light buzz as the guy asked if he was alright.

He lazily studied the couple for a second, trying to figure out _why_ it caused his stomach to drop when he looked at them.

The guy's right arm was wrapped almost defensively around the woman's waist, pulling and holding her tightly to him, in a protective yet loving way.

Her arm was wrapped loosely around his waist, her body angled slightly in towards his, a silent sign that she _belonged_ to _him_.

Arnold's hands clenched into tight fists when he realized that that's what he _wanted_ with _her._

That tonight's end goal was to _kiss_ her and make her _feel_ the difference than when they were trying to keep their mouths busy as he fumbled with the button of her skinny jeans and her fingers worked the fabric of his t-shirt up his torso and off.

Arnold nodded distractedly at whatever the couple had just said, dodging the girl's hand that reached for his left shoulder before walking around them and heading towards the crowd.

He got to the sidewalk, his head turning left and right as he searched the crowd for the familiar blonde. It wasn't safe for Helga to be drunk and/or alone walking at night, or at least that was his excuse as the small snide voice in the back of his head called him a coward.

* * *

There was a part of Helga, albeit small that wondered if everything, from the very moment this _game_ started in his bedroom while she was typing that research paper, was a bet that his pride didn't allow for him to lose or withdrawal, no matter the consequences.

Her logical side argued that there was over twenty years of friendship, jokes, late night study sessions, and secret keeping that contradicted that but over the last few months, she saw sides of Arnold she's never knew _existed._

 _Maybe this good guy personality is all for show?_

Helga's arms tighten around her frame as a sudden cold breeze slid under the hem of her shirt and brushed against her skin, causing goosebumps to appear down her arms.

Tonight had been going so well, but she was a fool to believe that it would last. Nothing good ever lasted with Helga Pataki, her family and ex-boyfriends could attest to that.

Arnold and Helga were like powerful magnets, always repelling the other away when they got too close, or at least _she_ did and he _let_ her.

She looked up and realized she was standing outside her apartment building. She wasn't ready to face the questioning squad of Gerald and Phoebe and didn't want to intrude on their plans.

Helga couldn't ruin their date night just because her _Prince Charming_ was wearing a different mask tonight.

She shook her head at the unfair thought, hating how quick they seem to appear now before taking a deep breath and debating between going to Slaussens or seeing if one of the other girls were free.

Her deep thoughts of Eenie Meenie Miney Mo was interrupted by her harsh ringtone cutting through the night, making her realize just how _quiet_ things were without Arnold.

Helga pulled her phone out of her jean pocket, closing her eyes for a second before looking at the screen- speaking of _Shortman._

 _Decline._

She sent it to voicemail, changed the notifications of his contact number to _ignore_ for a while before stuffing her phone in her back pocket.

Helga really wasn't in the _mood_ to talk to him, she needed some time alone. She decided to get a sundae from Slaussens when her ringtone blared through the night again.

She thought about ignoring it, but _swore_ she ignored and blocked all his contact information. She looked at the screen, watching as _Pheebs_ blinked up at her, she was probably checking in.

 _But she would have texted, not called._

Helga took a deep breath, calming herself down before answering.

"Hey," she answered, hoping her voice sounded casual and not like she was going to cry at the drop of a hat.

She could hear raven haired girl pause on the other end, hesitation evident in her voice but didn't push anything. It didn't mean she was off the hook forever, just right now.

"Where are you and Arnold? We have an issue."

 _Arnold was probably at a bar downing his sixth or seventh beer. She needed to come up with an excuse and fast._

"Arnold had to leave early, something about a group project or whatever. I'm walking back. What's up?"

Helga cringed at how paper thin her excuse sounded. She could hear Phoebe sighing over the phone and knew she would have to _properly_ explain what had happened tonight in major detail later.

"James and Drake got jumped while downtown tonight. Drake is here getting questioned by the police and will need some basic medical attention."

Phoebe paused as she decided the best wording for the next slam of bad news. She could tell Helga had a shit night and she was about to make it worse.

"James is in the hospital with really bad contusions and a possible concussion."

Helga froze for a second, images of James hooked up to a machine flashed before her and her heart broke.

James was so young and like a little brother to Helga, she couldn't imagine something this bad happening, but there can be really evil people in the world.

She nodded before realizing Phoebe couldn't see her.

"Yeah, I'm close. Be right there."

* * *

One would think that finding a feisty blonde woman with ocean blue eyes in a small city would be easy, especially after knowing her for the majority of one's life.

But that was before four beers, an unneeded argument, a scream session in an alley, and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Arnold saw blondes pass by, some giving him a once over and a small wave while others rolled their eyes and walked around him when he didn't move.

None of them were _her_ and if he didn't start walking soon, he would be stopped and questioned by a police officer and he _really_ didn't need that tonight.

Arnold turned right, walking away from the apartment as he knew she wouldn't want to face Gerald and Phoebe, at least not _yet._ Depending on how tonight ended, he wasn't sure he _ever_ wanted to face them.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and weaved through the crowd, trying to look casual while keeping himself alert for the blonde.

Arnold grabbed his phone from his pocket, swiping his thumb against the screen to unlock it before hitting the phone button and pulling up his recent call log.

He found Helga's name, moving over to the side to lean against a street lamp, he clicked the phone button under her contact, putting the receiver to his ear in time to hear her voice replaying her voicemail message in a bored, lazy tone.

Arnold was sure it didn't ring more than once which meant she had to have her phone in her hand and was _hitting_ _decline._

He dialed again, and once more, each time getting voicemails after only one ring.

 _Fine, if she didn't want to be an adult and talk to him, he was going to enjoy the rest of his night._

He checked his watch, the time reading just after one AM. The bars would be closing in an hour, which gave him just enough time to get a few more drinks, calm down, and hopefully have an adult conversation with Helga when he got home.

 _If she's even home._

Arnold shook his head, refusing to think about her for a while as he flashed his wrist-band at a nearby bouncer.

He looked around, half hoping she would be sitting at the bar, swirling a gin and coke and waiting to talk to him. Tonight just wasn't his night.

Arnold sat down on a stool around the back, half hidden by the dance floor but still able to see the door. He ordered a beer, water and for the bartender to "keep it coming".

He looked around at the couples, the air mix of sex, lust, and drunk bravery. He turned a little too quickly when he felt a soft hand on his left shoulder, hoping it was Helga.

Instead, he found a young brunette with bright, hopeful green eyes and a short, black dress standing beside him.

"Is this seat taken?" She asked, making her voice come out breathless as he nodded non committedly.

The brunette let her hand slide lazily from his shoulder, down his arm as she slid as graceful as she could in her dress onto the barstool.

These are the girls Helga would roll her eyes at and say were trying too hard. Arnold agreed, cringing as she let her hand fall to touch his knee before leaning forward on the bar a little too much, showing a generous amount of cleavage.

"What's your name?" Arnold asked, taking a drink to occupy himself with anything but the girl flaunting herself in front of him.

"Sabine," she answered, biting her lip as she told the bartender some fruity drink. He went to make her order, rolling his eyes as she winked flirtedly at him.

Arnold threw back the remainder of his beer, the bartender giving him a sympathetic smile before sliding him another one.

 _Helga's a much better name,_ Arnold thought, staring at the brunette while wishing she was a certain feisty blonde.

* * *

By the time Helga's had opened the door to the small apartment, there were a few policeman standing around the kitchen, Gerald and Phoebe were sitting on the couch, whispering between themselves and Drake was sitting on an island chair by the counter, being questioned or giving a statement.

No one noticed she had come in, so she took m the moment of invisibility to take in how bad Drake looked.

He had an ice pack held tightly to the right side of his face, his lip busted with dry blood under his nose.

Drake's nose looked like it could be broken, or at least sprained, could noses get sprained? The front of his dress shirt was drenched in dark, red blood, although she wasn't 100% sure it was _his_.

Helga put her keys in her purse, letting it drop to the floor to announce her arrival. A few policemen looked over at her and nodded before turning back to paperwork. Helga walked over to the couch, hugging Phoebe as she stood and giving Gerald a distracted head nod.

Gerald looked behind her, looking for Arnold before looking back at Helga and quirking an eyebrow. Helga knew questioning was going to happen but she didn't need it right now.

She changed the subject before Gerald could even open his mouth.

"What happened?" Helga asked, sitting down on the table in front of them, angling herself so she could still see and hear Drake without actively looking like she was listening in.

She ran her palms against the fabric of her jeans, not realizing how sweaty they were as she looked over anxiously at Phoebe and Gerald to see if either noticed. Unfortunately, Phobe did notice and quirked an eyebrow at the blonde.

"You first," Phoebe said, leaning back against Gerald, her voice firm but low. Gerald tore his gaze away from Drake to look at Helga, his arm lifting to rest against the back of the couch.

"Where _is_ Arnold?" Gerald asked, running his hand tiredly through his Afro. Helga suddenly realized she didn't know what time it was.

"This seems more important," Helga argued, albeit weakly, turning her wrist to check the time; 1:30 AM.

She ran her hands tiredly through her ponytail, before sliding the holder out and letting her hair fall free.

Helga sighed in relief and wrapped the hair tie around her wrist. "So, what happened?"

Phoebe sighed, looking up at Gerald for a moment before he kissed her forehead, gave her a small squeeze, and turned his attention back to Drake.

Helga's chest ached as she realized that that small moment between Gerald and Phoebe was something she wanted.

She wanted her own piece of solitude when she got bad news, or someone she could snuggle against during the cold, bitter nights of winter.

Worst of all, Helga wanted that feeling and life with Arnold. The man who would never be hers because of a million and one reasons, yet she longed for him just the same. It was a cruel fate.

She shook her head, as she looked back at Drake as Phoebe retold the story that Drake told them and now the police.

"James wanted to take Drake downtown for his birthday. So, they went to the new bar _Iron Maiden_ and were in line or something when _someone_ called them rather rude terms.."

Phoebe stopped when Helga looked pale. _She had been there. Was she there when it happened? Could she have stopped it._

She put a hand on Helga's knee and squeezed, bringing her out of her thoughts. "You and Arnold were at dinner, it happened early. You couldn't have known."

Helga gave a small sigh of relief before looking questioningly at Phoebe. _How would she know?_

"I told Drake to call the police and calm down, before I called you. There was about an hour and some minutes between the time of the incident and you coming home. You wouldn't have seen or known about this."

Helga nodded for Phoebe to continue. She hesitated before Gerald squeezed her kneecap. _How bad was this going to get?_

"Drake ignored it but James has no tolerance for bullying, especially with someone close to him, family or friends. So he got up in this guy's face and told him to "say it again". The guy was drunk, pulled out a knife and stabbed James a few times in the stomach and arms.

Drake tried to get help but got cornered by another one of the guy's friends and was punched and kicked repeatedly.

They called for an ambulance for James and was going to call his and Drake's family, but James told Drake to come here instead.

He's not out to his family and now wasn't the best time, so he knocked on the door crying, bloody and asking for you."

The three of them turned at the sound of a throat being cleared behind them, noticing a police officer, notepad closed with pencil tucked neatly in the rings, his hat tucked under his arm.

He kept looking back at Drake, a mixture of sadness and frustration in his eyes although his face hid it well by a mask of authority and professionalism.

"May I please speak with a Ms. Pataki?" The man said, meeting her surprised blue eyes and nodding towards the corner of the room. "Alone, please."

She nodded, followed silently and squeezing Phoebe's knee and Gerald's shoulder as she passed.

The policeman, with a gold name tag that read _Jenkins_ stopped and turned suddenly, making sure Helga's back was to her friends and blocked everything he said.

He flipped open his notebook and shook out his pencil and she internally panicked at the thought of getting questioned.

"Does the name _Wolfgang_ mean anything to you?" Jenkins whispers, his eyes studying her face, his pencil hovering over his pad.

Helga's head shot up, her eyes widening as she looked quickly between Jenkins and Drake. _No. No, no, no, no, no._

"Why?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper as she played with the fabric on the hem of her shirt. He was a piece of shit boyfriend and human, but he wouldn't do something like this, _would he_?

 _Maybe if drunk,_ a small voice reasoned. She _knew_ what his temper was like when he was mad, drunk, or any combination of the two mixed with _anything_ else.

"Drake mentioned the name when I was questioning him. He wouldn't say anything else but kept looking nervously at you."

Helga felt nauseous, her hands fell to her side and balled into tight fists. She had _kissed him_. She had _dated him_ and stood up for his character when people called him names and made quick judgements.

"We'll question you another day but right now, I think it might be best if we leave. Keep an eye on him and he should be alright." Jenkins reaches out to give her shoulder a small pat.

He pauses as he turns around, talking over his shoulder, his voice low and promising. "We'll catch him." He walks to where the other officers are, talking with them for a moment before nodding at Drake and walking out.

"You fucking better," Helga whispers, looking over at Drake.

* * *

 _Why won't she fucking stop talking and leave me alone_? Arnold internally yells, taking another long swig of beer, a bit missing his mouth and running down the side.

Before he could lift his thumb, her thumb had swiped up the sticky drink, putting it in her mouth and sucking afterwards.

 _That's not sexy. Please stop. Just go home._

He wanted to throw up, not from the stupid amount of alcohol he's consumed but because of how desperate and clingy this girl was.

 _Helga isn't desperate_ _ **or**_ _clingy. But maybe that's why Scarlett is here and Helga isn't._ Low blow, but it made sense.

Arnold finished the last of his beer, taking the brunette by the hand and pulling her to the dance floor.

His hands wrapped loosely around her waist as she sloppily moved her body against his, completely missing the rhythm of the music. It was _nothing_ like how Helga danced.

Helga's moves were powerful yet graceful all while demanding the audience's attention. He shook his head, trying to escape the blonde's grasp by leaning his lips near Sam's neck, touching without touching all while digging his fingers into her hips.

Sky moaned and he almost pushed her away in disgust. He was confused by how his body could be reacting to her one way while his mind and heart was saying something completely different.

He was about to tell her he needed to leave when she turned around, pressing her body against his and whispered-yelled in his ear, her voice lazy and slurred.

"Take me home."

 _Thank God,_ Arnold thought, missing the mischievous gleam in her eyes as he went back to the bar to grab his jacket and pay his tab. He walked her out, debating if he wanted to just hail her a cab.

She "shivered" and he rolled his eyes while wondering what rom-com she got _that_ move out of.

He handed her his jacket, forgetting his wallet was in the pocket. Ignoring the pout she gave him when he didn't place it over her shoulders. _This wasn't a rom-com. Sorry._

 _You would have done it for Helga_ , a voice taunted and Arnold hated that it was right.

"Where do you live?" Arnold asked, wanting to get her home so he could hopefully catch Helga while she was still awake or drink some water, eat a piece of bread, and get about eight hours of sleep, whatever happened first.

His voice must have sounded more inviting than he thought because she jumped him, wrapping her legs uncomfortably around his waist and pushing him back into the brick wall.

Arnold hissed in pain, going unnoticed, or uncared by the brunette as she continued to bite and suck painfully on his lips while grinding her bony pelvis into his.

He had about enough of whatever this was and turned them around so her back was against the wall. She grinned at him and for a moment, he swore he saw ocean blue eyes.

Suzy pulled him back in for a kiss, the aggressive, and sloppy, and spit filled kind that middle schoolers did under the bleachers at games when they were first experimenting.

She bit his lip hard and he hissed in pain, immediately dropping her. She just wasn't getting the damn hint but he couldn't let her walk home alone, he had to redeem his gentleman status starting somewhere.

"Where do you live?" Arnold asked again, moving to edge of the street, his hand placed palm out.

"It's not too far, we can just wa…."

He opened the door and she got in, he shut the door and handed the man $20 cash.

"Take her home, she's drunk. Keep the change, thank you!", Arnold said, slapping the top as she leaned out the window and called to him, completely butchering his name while inevitably throwing up over the side.

 _Helga would know how to hold her alcohol_ _and wouldn't have taken my jacket,_ Arnold thought bitterly as he started his walk home, sans jacket.

"How do you feel?" Helga asked from where she was leaning back against the counter in the kitchen, a fresh coffee smell filled the now quiet apartment.

She took a sip from her white ceramic mug, closing her eyes as the warmth and solitude of coffee relaxed her nerves. They all were seeing James today and she didn't know _what_ to expect.

Helga didn't sleep at all last night, resulting in bags under her eyes. She took another sip of coffee, her hands wrapping around the mug as she took a deep breath.

"I'm alive," Drake laughed, wincing at the pain as he ran her extra pink towel through his blonde hair, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal the start of a black and blue bruise on the right side of his stomach.

He throws the towel on the back of the chair, sighing as he puts both hands on the metal rim and leaned forward, breathing through the pain as he pushes himself back up.

"What was the point of that?" Helga asks, putting down her cup to get a fresh one from the cabinet, filling it three fourths full before looking expectantly over her shoulder at Drake.

"A little milk and three sugars," he smiles, giving a small laugh as she shakes his head and moves around the small kitchen with grace and speed.

He wonders if he'll ever have moments like this with James- a different pain in his chest starting from the words he had said as he was being lifted into the ambulance, his face bloody and eyes drifting closed before shooting open again.

 _Please, just go to Helga's. My family will be there and I just can't right now. It's not you, I love you, I just….I just need more time. She'll take care of you, here's the address. Be safe. I love you._

Drake shakes his head as he takes the mug, smiling gratefully as he stirs the mocha liquid, his eyes watching the sun appear over the horizon. It would feel almost peaceful had it not been for the events of happened tonight.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Drake asks, his hands gripping the mug as he leans back as comfortably as he can without causing too much pain.

He takes a sip of his coffee and cringes slightly, it's not the way James makes it, how he's used to-of course it's not.

Helga takes a moment to study him, the way his hair falls in a messy way without him trying or how the dimensions of his face make him look like someone she wants to tell all her secrets too, even the ones she doesn't know yet.

Drake catches her staring and shakes his head playfully, smiling as she shrugs and takes a long sip of coffee, her eyes closing as she inhales the peaceful break they finally got before something inevitable happens.

Helga had changed into something more comfortable, wearing a soft pair of black leggings with her oversized grey Hillwood sweater. The sleeves were rolled up to her wrist and her hair was braided and pulled over her right shoulder, the ends dripping from her shower.

She's lost in her own world, taking a long sip as she figures out what she's going to say to Arnold, how she's going to fix this mess that always seems to grow and never fully disappear.

"I'm sorry," Drake whispers, his voice filled with exhaustion and embarrassment as he stares ahead, his eyes focused on everything and nothing at all.

He hears the shower turn off and knows he's running out of time, he's getting closer to facing the judgement of James's family, of his family. "I didn't know falling in love could cause so much damage so quickly."

Drake is surprised when Helga just laughs, her eyes closing, her body relishing in the small relief of darkness before she opens them and turns to face Drake, her face blank yet filled with emotion.

"Love is a battlefield. Were only pawns but we can choose if the game is worth it."

He smiles, leaning over for an one armed hug, his chin resting on the crown of her head when the door bangs open.

* * *

"Fucking seriously?" Arnold growls, running his right hand through his tangled blonde hair as he glares at the blondes in front of him.

Drake takes a step back, setting his coffee behind him on the counter before leaning back carefully. It takes no effort for him to look carefree.

"Good morning and this isn't what this looks like," Drake says, cringing at how rom-com of an excuse that sounds.

He's ready to try again but Arnold is already ignoring him and walking up to Helga. His breath wreaks of beer mixed with cheap perfume and that's all it takes for the anger in her chest to rise.

"You leave _me_ to have _sex_ with _him_?" His voice is a mixture of confusion, drunken bravery, and adrenaline. His words are heavy and weighted as they roll of his tongue, stabbing her closer and closer to the heart with every word.

"We'll talk about this lat..." Helga stops when Arnold pokes a finger hard into her chest. She puts a hand on each shoulder and pushes him back, watching as he stumbles.

"This is not the time, you're drunk and…."

"I turned _down_ a girl who _actually_ wants me," Arnold yelled, his hands gripping the wall to stop from swaying.

 _Shut up,_ his brain yells while his heart screams to hit her where it hurts. "For you. I turned her down and come looking for you to find you

already in the arms of another guy? Seriously?"

Helga knew she should have explained it, that he had it all wrong but something in her snapped. She was exhausted and honestly tired of whoever the fuck this Arnold was. It wasn't the guy she's known all her life, it was bringing the worse out of her, and she was _done_ playing his games.

"Then go back to _her_." Time stopped as he dealt his next blow.

"Was Wolfgang really the cheater or was it really you?"

It was silent as both blondes stare down the other to see who will break first. To say they _need_ the other. Neither one is willing to shatter the small amount of pride they have left but their toxic game has gone on for far too long.

Drake is about to say something, to explain everything when the doorbell rings. He excuses himself to answer it, pulling it open to find a perky brunette with an large dress jacket draped over her arm and eyes and a body that screamed sin.

He wants to take the jacket and slam the door in her face but she says the sentence that he dreads.

"Is _Arnold_ here?"

When Drake doesn't answer, she knows she has the right apartment and slides under his arm and into the apartment.

It's unknown whether she notices or even _cares_ about the tense air between everybody but she puts on her best squeals and throws herself at Arnold, knocking him over and giving him a sloppy kiss that made him nauseous and in want of a shower.

"You left before we even _started_ ," she whispers, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, letting her manicured hand travel down his leg before hovering over his dick.

He pushes her up and off him, moving to stand and grab the wall for balance.

"How did you _find_ me?" Arnold asked, his eyes staying glued to Summer, was that her name? While avidly avoiding Drake and Helga.

 _How had he managed to fuck up so badly? He wasn't a bad guy. He wasn't the bad guy._

"You left your wallet in the jacket you gave me," she winked, moving to hang off his arm. He "And dick like yours one _can't_ forget." She flipped the hair off her shoulder and smiled coyly at Helga and Drake.

"Helga, please," Arnold whispered, finally looking at Helga and was surprised to see no emotion, not hurt or scared or even anger.

"You came back for me, did you?" Helga asked, her voice low and full of venom. Whenever they fought, it seemed to be all or nothing, and she was running out of things to bet.

"Was that before or _after_ you fucked her?"

The girl smiled smugly at Helga before hearing a door open and Gerald and Phoebe walked out of their room, dressed comfortably with car keys in hand.

"Where were you, man?" Gerald asked to Arnold, eyebrow quirked slightly at the brunette hanging languidly over his arm.

Arnold shook the brunette off, ignoring her pout as she stood beside him instead. "And you are?" He asked, already sure he was not going to like her answer or the answer to why she was here.

"I'm Sabine," the girl answered, smoothing back her hair and throwing her shoulders back. She honestly looked like she had thrown her back out and was currently stuck in that rigid position.

"How nice," Gerald answered sarcastically, looking between Arnold and Helga, not liking how neither were making eye contact with anyone in the room.

"I'm sorry but you have to leave, Sabine was it?" Gerald announced, feeling the tension in the air rising and knowing he was going to have to have a long talk with Arnold in the next half hour. It was going to be nasty and bitter but the sooner Sabine was gone, the closer to the _right_ direction Arnold got.

"Um, that's for Arnold to decide," Sabine announced, one hand gripping Arnold's shoulder and looking at Gerald with mocking, smug eyes.

"Leave," Arnold said, his eyes not meeting anyone's as he stares at the floor, trying to figure out how he lost control of his life so fucking quick and badly.

"But…. _,"_ Sabine squeaked, causing Arnold to shake his head in frustration and walk to the door.

" _ **Out**_ ," Arnold says, opening the door. She huffs and throws her hair over her shoulder and walks into the hallway.

"One more thing," Arnold says, grabbing his jacket before slamming the door in her face, leaning against it as he looks at the blank faces of his friends.

His eyes land on Helga and he has suddenly _no_ clue how he's going to fix this.

"Helga," Arnold starts, begging her to look at him. Y _ou're not fully innocent here,_ Arnold thinks. "We _both_ fucked up so…."

A laugh cut off his sentence, causing him to look up at her in shock, her hands behind her as she grips the counter and looks him straight in the eye.

"Tell me how _I fucked up_?" Helga says, her voice challenging.

 _What?_ "You fucked Drake…."

"Wrong," Helga interrupts, suddenly realizing how exhausting this game was. She's been up for 24 hours and it's been the most continuous , demanding shit storm.

"Drake is _James's_ _boyfriend_. You missed the whole police parade because of _Sabine, nice_ to _know_ you had a legit reason, but James and Drake got jumped in the alley. James is in the _hospital._ We were heading there when you got home."

Arnold ran his hand through his hair as he turned to Gerald and Phoebe, Phoebe wa staring at him with a disappointing, unreadable expression while Gerald just shook his head.

"We don't have time for this right now, just go to bed and we'll talk later," Gerald commented, his voice stern as he knew Arnold was going to argue. James and him haven't had the best past, him showing up might not be a good idea.

"Why is it that you always expect the _worst_ from me?" Helga's asked, her voice leaking pain and disappointment. "I wasn't the monster, Wolfgang was. But you've made me into a monster. So this is all on you."

She didn't know how bad James was or how brave she needed to be. Arnold was on the bottom of her list right now, and that's where he was going to stay for a while.

"I need you in my life," Arnold whispers, his voice low and filled with exhaustion and pleading and pain.

He felt like they were back in the kitchen, a few months ago when the deal was fresh and new. And now he felt like he had just taken six huge steps back.

"Okay," Helga answers, opening the door and walking away, not looking back or giving him the privilege of letting him know he won. He had the lowest blow.

* * *

Please try to remember that sometimes it takes hitting rock bottom for someone to realize that an action or a way a relationship is going is toxic and something needs to change. Arnold is human and he will make mistakes but that's not his overall personality and he knows it and so does Helga. Both are trying to work through things and feelings and emotions and it's difficult to balance- things will overall get better for them both, they just need time to heal and grow apart.

So, moving on from this for a second, I need your opinions! Do you guys want an epilogue or a sequel? The reason I'm bringing this up so early, although we're getting close to the end, is because the ending I have in mind can go either way, although I would love for a sequel, I don't want this to be drawn out if people just want this to end. So, what do you think? Let me know!

A HUGE SHOUT OUT to Writer25 and HappyLittlePsycopath for brainstorming and editing for me during these last two weeks. It was hard to get out of my funk but I couldn't have done it without them! Please go show them some love!

Thank you to all of those who have read, followed, favorited, and commented on this little story! I never expected it to go as far as it has, but I love reading comments and getting notifications- it really brightens my day! Maybe one day, I should just reply to comments on a chapter.

Hopefully it won't be two weeks until I see you all again, but thank you for your patience and love towards this story and me as an author! I really appreciate it!

Much love and good vibes,

Lovelyseoulwriter


	13. Chapter 13

The twenty minute car ride to Hillwood Hospital felt like it dragged on for hours. Gerald ended up driving, as he was the least exhausted out of the group.

His left hand loosely gripped the steering wheel while his right rubbed soothing circles and patterns on Phoebe's right knee.

Gerald's attention alternated between the road, smiling at Phoebe, and glancing back at the two quiet blondes watching the scenery zoom by.

Phoebe had her head back against the doorframe, her right hand resting carefully on top of Gerald's. Her simple, new engagement, ring, as of last night, caught the morning sun causing a small, secret smile to appear on her face.

The plan was to tell Helga and Arnold when they got home from their date, celebrating with with a glass of wine and beer before breaking off to be alone.

She sighed, the fingers of her right hand moving the small diamond to face toward her palm; now just wasn't the time.

Helga watched the color of the trees, pedestrian's clothing, and cars speed past, blending together until it was just a mixture of colors.

Her mind replayed last night and this morning's events, wondering how her night could have gone downhill _so_ fast.

Helga felt a larger hand cover hers, thinking it was Gerald reaching back to her, she looked down to see Drake's left hand cover hers.

He gave her hand a light squeeze, attempting a small smile before turning back to the window.

Helga wondered how painful it must be for Drake and James to fall in love but be physically, emotionally, and mentally afraid of the opinions of their family, friends, and society.

How painful it would be to be told by the person your heart aches so deeply for to go somewhere else because their family was going to be there.

She gave his hand a small squeeze back, not bothering with an insincere smile as she watched the light ahead of them turn from yellow to red.

* * *

Helga and Phoebe took a seat in the waiting room while Gerald and Drake walked up to talk to the woman at the front desk.

Phoebe's right hand covered Helga's left, rubbing soothing patterns as they watched a redhead, middle aged woman with shake her head and say something.

"By the way, congrats," Helga whispered, rubbing the small diamond with her finger, turning it around so she could properly see at it. Gerald had done well.

The ring was a simple gold band with a diamond sticking upright. It wasn't flashy or screamed _look at me_ ; it was just the way Phoebe liked.

The girls were silent as they watched Gerald more animatedly while Drake stood silently beside him. The woman continued to shake her head.

"He definitely surprised me," Phoebe said, smiling. Helga knew Phoebe well enough that she didn't have to look over to see it.

"I was putting in a movie, it was his turn to pick when he asked me to dance. He had put on _I'll Be_ by on Edwin McCain and dimmed the lights. He had spun me away from him, and I was confused when he didn't catch me. But when I turned around, he was down on one knee with a little black box."

Helga smiled, looking over at the frustrated guys. Gerald looked over, smiling at her before lingering on Phoebe, tenderness in his eyes. He gave a private smile, something Helga felt she was intruding on before turning back to talk to Drake and the woman.

"We all knew it was coming," Helga said, her smile dropping as she realized she may never have this feeling with Arnold. _Not if they continued like this._ "It was only a matter of time."

Phoebe gave Helga's hand a squeeze as she sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair. "He even went to ask my parents in person. He learned Japanese to ask my father "properly" and asked my mom when he approved. Apparently, he's been getting help from a student studying foreign language that was in a class he TA'd for."

"He was driving us all crazy," Helga smiled, leaning in to give Phoebe a small side hug.

The hug held more than just congratulations, it was also one of comfort.

"So you all knew?" Phoebe asked, shaking her head at her fiancé who was _still_ talking to the redhead and not making any progress.

"Oh yeah," Helga laughed, running a hand down her damp braid. "He had some crazy ideas before we suggested he keep to something simple. Also, he kept repeating the phrase over and over again when you left. There was only so much we could take!"

They laughed, the first light hearted laugh In hours. Helga nudged Phoebe as Gerald and Drake came shuffling back, Gerald running a hand through his Afro while Drake stuffed both hands in his pockets.

"They're apparently only allowing family right now," Gerald sighed, sitting down in a chair next to Phoebe, leaning back so his head was resting against the wall.

He closed his eyes for a second, relishing in the small second of rest. Everyone was so exhausted and Helga couldn't be more _grateful_ for the people in this room.

"So, I can take us home, get some sleep, and then come back later or we can stay," Gerald says, stifling a yawn behind his hand.

"Don't let that yawn be a deciding factor," he jokes, a small, secretive smile appearing on his lips as Phoebe puts a hand on his upper thigh.

Sensing that Phoebe was going to clearly suggest that they all stay, Helga gently cuts her off.

"You guys go home and sleep," Helga says, her voice holding authority but with a caring undertone.

"I'll call you if anything happens. Also, congrats on not messing up, Gerald!" She winks, smiling as he holds his hand out to her in a closed fist.

Helga meets him halfway, laughing and shaking her head when he pulls back and makes an explosion noise.

"Thanks for keeping it a secret, Pataki," Gerald laughs, although it sounded hollow and tired, he was extremely happy despite last night's events.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want us to stay?" Phoebe asks, stifling a yawn behind her hand before looking guiltily over at Helga.

"I will, or we can walk to the coffee shop downtown and get coff…." She was cut off by Helga vehemently shaking her head.

"It's too early for exercise," Helga joked, really just wanting some more space and time away from Arnold and to think.

"Okay, well, call us _immediately_ if you need anything," Phoebe insists, standing up hesitantly as Gerald wraps a loose arm around her waist.

"Seriously Pataki," Gerald says, raising an eyebrow sternly at her. "Call us. If not her, me. Understand?"

Helga nods and Gerald looks over at Drake.

"Staying?" Gerald guesses, watching as Drake, nods slightly, his hair brushing against the wall. He smiles at Phoebe and holds out a lazy fist to Gerald.

"Take it easy, guys, and thanks for everything." Drake says. "Oh, and congrats."

* * *

"I'll be in in a little bit," Gerald leans down and whispers to Phoebe as they enter the apartment.

Phoebe was already heading straight to the bedroom, looked back at him confused. He nods to Arnold sitting in the window, still in the same clothes as last night but now with a cup of coffee.

"Okay," Phoebe nods slowly, squeezing Gerald's arm before giving him a kiss on the cheek, "But don't be too long. It's hard to sleep without you."

She walks to the bedroom, looking over Arnold slightly before the door clicked shut a few seconds later. Gerald sighs, running both hands through his Afro as he walks over to his sullen best friend.

"How is he?" Arnold asks, his voice emotionless and raw. Gerald remains silent for a few seconds, choosing to study him instead.

The skin around Arnold's eyes were red and sore, as if he had spent the last few hours constantly rubbing them. His hair stood crazily in every direction, like his hands had repeatedly been dragged through it.

He honestly looked like a man for the first time in his life with no control. He looked lost, confused, conflicted, and pained.

"We couldn't see him," Gerald answered, leaning his right shoulder against the wall his arms crossing tightly over his chest.

This was the last conversation he _wanted_ to have, but Arnold _needed_ it.

"Wanna talk about what happened last night?" Gerald asks, his body begging for his bed and the soft arms of his fiancée wrapped around his waist. He dropped Arnold's feet to the floor to draw him out of his bubble and sat down.

"I royally messed up," Arnold sighed, his thumbs rubbing against the smooth shine of his ceramic mug.

He looks over at Gerald, his face contorting in disgust before closing his eyes and letting his head lean back and hit the wall.

"My feelings and emotions are all over the place with Helga," the words were coming out like a confessing sinner and he couldn't stop them even if he tried.

"They project so strongly that I end up overreacting and then backpedal. Did you know I _punched_ someone last night, a frat boy?"

"You _punched_ someone?" Gerald repeating, punching the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. "I'm sure there was a _good_ reason, right?"

He let his left knee fall to his left, resting against the window as his right dangled above the floor. It wasn't a comfortable position but he wasn't planning on having this conversation for much longer.

"He was talking to Helga, asking her to dance and something just _snapped_."

Arnold froze, his words, actions, emotions, thoughts; everything was starting to fall into place in his head.

"I thought the frat boy was going to take Helga from me. He was in her face and running his hands down her body and I just _saw_ red."

"Then what happened?" Gerald asked, hoping his hunch wasn't right, even though it usually was.

"We went to an alleyway," Arnold cringed at how bad all of this sounded.

"And we had a fight, a really bad one. Helga left, I half-assed tried to find her, got drunk, met Sabine, came home, had another fight, and now we're here."

Gerald had to at least give Arnold some credit that he was starting to recognize his toxic behavior. _Now how is he planning on fixing it?_

"So what was the argument this morning about?" Gerald asked, wanting to hear exactly from Arnold what happened.

"I had met this girl, Sabine last night at the bar," Arnold sighed, pinching his nose before leaning over to set his half empty cup of coffee on the floor.

"She wouldn't leave me alone, I was drunk and we danced. I came to my senses, before anything happened, hailed her a cab and walked home. Walked in this morning to see Helga hugging Drake and lost it, my mind immediately jumping to her fucking another guy after our fight.

I screamed, said a lot of things I regret and then Sabine shows up, jacket in hand. She spins last night's events and makes it sound like we had sex. You and Phoebe came out, told her to leave, and then I proceeded to dig myself a deeper hole with Helga.

As you all were leaving, I told Helga I couldn't live without her, she said an noncommittal okay and left."

Arnold slouched back conflicted as a mixture of feeling free and damned coursed through his body. It felt freeing to get all of his emotions and thoughts off his chest, to talk about it with someone who _wasn't_ involved. But it was also damning because his best friend finally saw him hit rock bottom.

"Why is it that you automatically think the worst when it comes to Helga?" Gerald asked, although rhetorical, he was surprised when Arnold laughed bitterly.

"She said the exact same thing," Arnold breathes out heavily through his nose, watching as cars and pedestrians pass by down below.

"Why is that though?" Gerald challenges, wanting an answer instead of Arnold using his reflective defensive mechanism.

Arnold pauses, thinking carefully how and what he wants to say.

"I think it's because I'm starting to fall for her and hard. From past experiences, whenever I did that, the girl hurt me before I even had a chance to prove myself.

I've built up an walls over the years that felt impenetrable. Then my emotions and the tension for her comes out of nowhere, catching me by surprise and my walls just crumble.

So I'm left vulnerable and whenever she gets too close, I push her away the only way I know how; by fighting. Then I rationalize, realize I messed up and try to overcompensate for it and ultimately just making things worse."

Gerald shakes his head sympathetically, not personally knowing exactly how that must feel but can only guess.

He had his own emotional rollercoaster for the first few years of dating Phoebe. Wondering if there was an ultimatum of _why_ she was dating him.

Phoebe was always patient and kind every time this issue would come up but Gerald could see the emotional strain it was having on her, her schoolwork, her life, and their relationship. He had to learn to cope, just like Arnold will.

"I had similar feelings, strong ones just like yours when I first started dating Phoebe. She's intelligent and beautiful and way out of my league, but I couldn't constantly tear my relationship apart when I had those feelings.

We wouldn't be _engaged_ today if I had. Sometimes talking helped but other times, I had to walk away. And that sucked."

"Oh, man," Arnold smiles slightly, holding out his hand for their secret, not so secret handshake. "Congrats!"

"Thanks man, but we'll talk about it another time." Gerald sighs, knowing that his next words were really really going to sting for Arnold.

"The relationship between you two right now is extremely toxic. If it continues, someone is going to get seriously hurt and I don't know if you guys will be able to come back from that."

Gerald yawns, giving Arnold time to think and be alone. "Right now, you don't have to imagine a life without her, just a time period where you both have room and space to heal.

But if you continue like this, you might find out _what_ life without her feels like. Just think for right now, okay?"

Arnold nods heavily, his focus still on the busy streets.

"Everything will get better, and eventually be okay. It'll just take some time."

* * *

"Ms. Pataki and Mr. Wondercoof?" A light voice rang, jolting Helga awake and upright from her uncomfortable nap in the small plastic chair.

She found herself to be extremely sore.

"Yes," Helga yawned, running the back of her hand over her mouth to wipe away any excess drool. _Gross._

She nudges Drake who had his head back against the wall, his hands folded behind him as a pillow.

"Yes!" Drake startles, sitting up and staring at Helga confusedly before looking over at the patient nurse. "Any news?"

"We're about to find out," Helga nods, blinking a few times before looking at the redhead nurse. Her badge reads _Tina_ with a smiling picture of her in blue scrubs.

She looks from Drake to Helga, smiling but with conflict evident in her eyes.

"Mr. Wallikiner is awake," Tina starts, pausing to smile as Drake seems to deflate in his chair from relief.

"But he's only asking for Ms. Pataki right now." Helga's eyes widen as she turns to look at Drake, cringing from the hurt expression in his eyes.

Helga squeezes his forearm. "I think it would be best if we…."

"No," Drake whispers, running a hand tiredly down his face as he closes his eyes, his jaw tightening. "Please go. See how he's doing. I'll be fine."

Helga looks at him, opening her mouth as if preparing to argue before closing it again. She looks at him one last time before standing and following Tina behind the set of automatic double doors.

* * *

The hallway felt never ending to Helga. The bright fluorescent lights caused small dots to appear in her vision as the overwhelming smell of sanitation and death made her cringe.

She realized quite quickly that she really disliked hospitals and was starting to really hate the color white.

Helga followed Tina, to Room 3006. Even with the heavy oak door closed, she could still hear whispering on the other side.

"Are you okay?" Tina asked, her hand was resting gently on the door handle, waiting for the blonde's response.

Helga wonders how long Tina's been a nurse and if each day got harder and harder to not get attached to certain patients.

"I shouldn't be here," Helga whispers, her fingers gripping tightly to the edge of her sleeves, wiping away some of the sweat on her palms. "This should be _Drake_ , not _me_."

Tina just nodded, as if she understood everything and put on a small a smile. She knocked once, then again before popping her head into the room.

"I have a Ms. Pataki here," Tina said, her voice careful and kind. She heard a woman's voice give an affirmative answer, but didn't hear James at all.

When Helga walked in, she immediately saw who she guessed was James' parents. The women in was about middle aged with light blonde hair while the man was a few years older and balding.

She looked carefully around the room and found a boy and girl in the chairs pushed up against the wall. The boy looked no older than 13 while the girl looked to be in her later teens. She had one earbud in, messing around on her iPhone while the other earbud was in the boy's ear.

"Helga," James smiled, holding out the hand with the IV while his mother moved to sit down on the armrest of her husband's chair instead.

"How are you feeling?" Helga asked, sitting down in the empty chair, looking from the IV in his arm to the machine on his right steadily beeping. His parents remained quiet, just watching them.

"I've definitely been better," James laughed, cringing and coughing slightly at the jolt of pain that ran up his side. _That must have been where he was stabbed._

"These are my parents," James nods to his right." That's Debbie and Thomas, but he usually goes by Tom."

James nods down to the edge of the bed at the two teens. "And those are my siblings, Tess and Logan."

"A pleasure, although I wish we met under different circumstances," Helga said, holding out a hand to the parent. _This feels so wrong. This should be Drake._

"James told me a little about the incident at the bar," Debbie said, her hand resting gently on Tom's shoulder.

"Apparently, there was some guy who was upset that James was dancing with a girl. Things escalated and the guy pulled a knife. Is that correct, James?"

Debbie looks over at James and Helga can see the glint of doubt in her eyes.

"Yes, mom. For the millionth time," James huffs, anxiously adjusting himself into a more comfortable position.

"I'll get the doctor to give you more pain meds" Debbie turns to Helga, a small smile on her lips. "Walk with me, will you?"

James shakes her head at Helga, but she just nods and gets up, pushing the chair back. It makes an awful scraping noise and she avoids eye contact with James as they leave the room.

Once the door closes, Debbie stops to lean against the heavy oak and signs. Helga doesn't notice Debbie's not beside her at first until she turns around.

"If you're tired, I can get the doctor?" Helga offers, trying to remember the name she saw in James' bracelet.

"I'm fine," Debbie smiles, but then crosses her arms and looks Helga straight in the eye. "Do you know what _actually_ happened?" Her voice didn't sound accusing or threatening, instead just tired and wanting answers.

"Yes," Helga says, cringing at how quickly she had answered. Would James be mad at her if she accidentally outed him to his mother?

"And is the _man_ who was with James last night here?" Debbie asked, and Helga couldn't help but think her voice sounded hopeful.

"Yes."

"Excellent, can you show me where?" Debbie smiles, following behind Helga as she leads them back to the waiting room.

They walk in silence for a few minutes before Helga's curiosity got the best of her. It always did.

"Do you know?" Helga asks hesitantly, her mind trying to figure out if there was a better, more courteous way of asking.

"That my son is gay?" Debbie smiles, looking at Helga with a fond look. They really didn't sugarcoat anything. Maybe that's why James asked about Helga when they had first met.

"I've known for quite some time. But I want James to feel comfortable coming out to me and do it on his own terms.

Not because he has to, but because he's happy and potentially found love. Thomas and I were going to let him do it on his own time and terms, but not letting his boyfriend, Drew was it?"

Debbie looks over at Helga, eyebrow raised and Helga couldn't help but smile.

"Drake," she corrects, shaking her head while wondering if this is what a mother daughter bond was supposed to feel like. _I wouldn't know._

"Right, _Drake_ see him after the night he had must of scared the poor guy shitless. It's cruel and I will not stand for it."

Helga just smiles bigger when they open the waiting room door to see Drake pacing anxiously.

* * *

"Are you the man who saved my son's life?" Debbie asked, walking up to Drake, her voice calm but firm. Drake's eyes shifted from Helga to the woman and back to Helga.

"Um, yes," Drake answers as he sticks out a hand. "My name is Drake."

"Debbie," The woman answers as she pulls him in for a hug. It surprises him, but he wraps his arms lightly around Debbie's shoulders.

"How is he?" Drake asks, trying to keep the panic and anxiousness out of his voice. He runs a hand through his hair and Debbie just smiles.

"Stable, but I'm wondering as to why you're out here? Didn't the doctor clear him for seeing friends?"

Debbie turns to Helga and winks, non to secretly.

"I think that's what I heard too," Helga shrugs, turning back to face Drake as Debbie started snickering.

"Well come on then!"

Drake just smiles, running a hand through his hair and Helga couldn't help but think how similar Drake, Gerald, and James mannerisms were.

"What's going on?" Drake whispers to Helga as they once again walk down the endless hallway. She simply shrugs, smiling as Drake glares back, clearly not believing her.

Helga squeezes his arm and continues to follow an almost bouncing Debbie to James' door.

Before she opens it, she spins to look at Drake, her lips curling into a smile.

"Thank you for taking care of my baby boy and for continuing to take care of him when we leave."

Debbie pushes the door open, allowing Drake followed by Helga to walk in first.

"Finally," James whines, not looking up at first. "Did you get the…."

James stops, his mouth curling into a smile before he clears his throat, moving to sit up before cringing in pain.

"The doctors _just ran_ out," Debbie said, shrugging as she went to sit on Tom's armrest, smiling like a fool.

Drake's hand curled into tight fists, his nails piecing the skin of his palm as he reminded himself not to do anything stupid.

"What's up, man?" James asked, catching himself as he held a hand out for Drake to slap. Helga just rolled her eyes as Debbie raised an eyebrow.

"Um, not much," Drake replied, reaching back to rub his neck as he tried to think of an excuse of _why_ he was here.

"Heard you were in the hospital and thought I'd come check on you." Drake hesitated before adding, "Man."

"Oh, cool cool." James replied, nodding his head for a bit before awkwardly drumming his fingers on the white bedspread.

He felt extremely guilty and knew he'd have to make this up to Drake later, but he was extremely grateful for the blonde man to play along.

The room was silent for a moment except for the small beeping of the heart rate machine and the light drop of the IV drip.

"It was cool of you to stop by," James said, hoping his tone didn't sound clipped but instead tired.

"I should be back on Mon…."

Debbie shook her head, holding up her hands as she spoke.

James thought she was getting him off the hook. He couldn't be _more wrong._

"As riveting of a performance as that was, which is _was,_ don't you think your _boyfriend_ should have been one of the first to visit? Not your friend?"

Debbie looked at Helga with a no offense sign and Helga just shook her head, a playful smile on her lips.

"That _was_ pretty shitty," Helga laughed, playing along with his mother. James got really red before turning towards Helga.

"You told her?!" He almost screamed, had it not been for his stitches and his mother grabbing his flailing arms.

"I already knew," Debbie smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of all his tubes and wires.

"We know you're gay, James," her voice was soft and caring and full of love and pain. "And we don't love you _any_ less. We wanted to give you time to come out to us on your own, but the fact that you felt the need to hide this and that you feel scared makes me feel like I failed you as a mother.

I want you to know that you can tell me anything, and I mean anything and we won't ever stop loving you."

James' face contorts as a single tear falls down his cheek. He didn't know how much weight would be lifted off his shoulder or how much pain it caused to hide who he was.

He squeezed her hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it slightly. "I love you." He closes his eyes as Debbie leans forward to kiss his forehead and Tom leans forward to squeeze his forearm.

"I'm sorry," James calls out to Drake, holding out the hand with the IV as a way of motioning for him to come here.

"You should be," Drake whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed and bringing his forehead to rest against James'. "You had me scared to death."

"I know," James whispers, putting a hand on his cheek. "And I'm sorry. More sorry than you'll ever know."

"Kiss me," Drake smiles and James does just that.

* * *

When Helga left the hospital, it was a nice enough day to walk back to the apartment. She made a small detour, grabbing an iced coffee and a bagel for her a black, iced coffee for Arnold.

She was dreading their talk but it _needed_ to happen. They both knew it.

When the apartment building was in clear view, she could feel his presence sitting in the window, watching for her without actively seeing anything.

Helga looked up and saw him, in hand, eyes glued to hers and she knew this conversation was going to be extremely difficult.

* * *

"Hey," Arnold called lightly, his voice raw, like he had been crying for hours. She put a hand against the wall, taking her time getting off her Converse as she waited to answer him.

"Hey," Helga echoed back, standing in front of him, iced coffee outstretched for him to take. He looks at it, sets down his empty coffee mug, and smiles briefly as their hands touch, his face suddenly dropping.

He knew the conversation they were about to have. She took a moment to study him, the skin around his eyes looked sore, like he'd been rubbing them continuously.

His hands wrapped around the plastic his coffee is in as he takes a sip. _Just how he likes it. Does he even_ _ **know**_ _how she likes her coffee?_

"How is Drake and James?" Arnold asks, hoping to stall for a little more time before the inevitable. He wasn't ready to let go, not yet but he was running out of time.

"Good," Helga says, taking a sip of her light mocha colored drink, swirling it around in the cup before continuing.

"James' family apparently already knew he was gay and they met Drake It was cute." She sits down, her back against the cool glass as she puts one hands on the ledge.

Helga doesn't look at Arnold, instead staring at the ice swirling in her coffee.

Arnold begs Helga to look at him, at least once more.

"I'm sorry," Arnold starts, his chest constricting as he watches her close her eyes. She seems to be taking deep breaths and can't help but

wonder if she believes him.

"I'm sorry too," Helga says, sighing and leaning back as she stares at the ceiling. "For everything."

Arnold's stomach drops. _What is everything to her?_

"We can't keep doing this," his voice sounds stronger than he feels. He turns to mimic her position, taking a sip of his coffee and wonders what else he doesn't know about her.

"This toxicity of taking three steps forward and ten giant leaps back." This reminds him of the first time he kissed her.

"I know," Helga nods, grabbing the hair tie at the end of her braid and pulling. She ruffled her hands through her hair, letting it settle loosely as a curtain between them.

She could feel the familiar sting in her nose and the blur of her eyes, but she was determined to not cry.

"But I lov…."

"I'm moving in with Eugene," Helga rushes, closing her eyes and cringing when she realizes she talked over him, over maybe something important he had to say.

"Oh," Arnold responds, moving his hands from the ledge to rest on top of his lid.

I _love you_ left _a_ bitter taste on his tongue. He couldn't blame her for wanting to leave.

"I'm sorry, we just can't keep attracting and then repelling each other when we get too close." Her voice was pleading, begging him to understand. And he did.

"it's going to cause irreversible damage and I can't do that. Not to you, to me, or to us. We need some time, alone to find ourselves and heal."

 _But I love you._

 _ **But I love you.**_

They sat in silence and he could see Helga visibly squirming. _Did she want to get away that badly?_

"Are we good?" Helga asked, her voice hesitant and Arnold flashed back to the night this all began. When she was walking out his bedroom door and he stupidly asked if everything was "good".

"Yeah," Arnold smiled, breathing out through his nose as he bumped her shoulder. She smiled hesitantly but genuine, the kind where the skin crumpled at the edge.

"Okay?" Helga questions, standing up and holding out her fist for him to bump.

"Okay," Arnold answers, connecting his fist to hers, shaking his head at the small explosion noise before watching her walk to her room.

 _Okay._

* * *

Hi,

So,wow. This was full of lots of feelings, both positive and negative. I wanted to throw in some good vibes to change from all the negatives and hard ones between Drake/James and Helga/Arnold.

I personally love the scene with James' mom because it's a thing many people go through real life, not just in FanFiction. And it's hard, and scary, and sucks but I wanted to show that there are parents and friends and support systems who people can rely on and who love them, no matter what.

I got extremely lucky to be loved unconditionally and I love unconditionally all my friends and readers and family. If you ever need a safe place to go, or someone to talk to, I'm here. Remember that.

Also, I wanted to add a little bit of fluff to steer away from all the seriousness. It looks grim right now but Arnold will take the steps to fix this, he's going to figure out that this isn't how he wants to live.

What did you think of the proposal? Let me know if you want a wedding chapter or just a preview of it in passing!

A huge thanks for HappyLittlePsychopath, per usual and all of those who commented, read, liked, favorited, and followed! You guys are AWESOME!

Much love and good vibes until next time!

Lovelyseoulwriter


	14. Chapter 14

This chapter is different from the first few chapters- more feels and less passion and fire. There will be more of that in later chapters, but for right now, each person is going to handle things differently, please remember that.

I'm not 100% sure I like this chapter, so it may very well be taken down in the next couple of days or so.

Enjoy.

* * *

There were no words that could accurately and fully articulate just how therapeutic coming home felt to Arnold, especially at the end of a day that felt nothing less than dragging.

Every morning at six AM, his alarm would fill his room with the lively music of Big-Band Jazz. his long fingers reaching out of the warm cocoon of blankets to only hit the snooze button twice.

After the third start of the shrill trumpets, Arnold willed himself out of bed and prepared for his run around the neighborhood. He would take his time, letting the buzzing music in his earbuds become background noise as he watched the small city start to wake up. So sleepy, yet buzzing with the prospects of the new day.

He'd make it home 45 minutes later, shuffling quietly through the living room and into the bathroom for a quick shower, resting his forehead against the cool tiles of as he let the warm water pound against his sore muscles.

Then started the chaotic portion of his morning. He'd quickly towel off, leaving the apartment while the others were just waking up to head to the small coffee shop just off campus.

Arnold always ordered the same iced Chai Tea, sometimes adding an extra shot of espresso if the previous night had been particularly stressful, and playfully ignoring the brunette barista's joke about _trying_ something new.

He would wink playfully at her, laughing as she rolled her eyes back at him before greeting the next guest. He would smile, thanking her as he made his way to the booth in the back, the only one with a window because Helga liked to people watch.

Arnold would take sips of his Chai while grading the remaining papers he was too exhausted to finish the night before, heading shooting up whenever he heard the small bell signal a new customer.

When Helga would arrive, he would wave at her from the booth, his eyes crinkling with laughter as she rolled her eyes before moving to stand in line. He'd watch her read something off her phone, before smiling at the brunette behind the counter and ordering her usual grande straight black coffee.

Arnold would have to bite the inside of his cheek to not smile like an idiot as she sat down and they talked about him slacking on his schoolwork and her not being any better. They would then walk the short five minute walk to campus, their shoulders occasionally bumping and would part ways until the evening.

His afternoons were always a mystery to Arnold, never knowing if he was leading a freshman orientation tour around campus, tutoring a classmate in the library, or catching up on homework.

Arnold quickly became the "go-to" guy for advice and help from incoming Freshman which meant he was _constantly_ moving.

Between his early mornings, juggling seven classes, which was _nothing_ compared to Phoebe's eight to ten, being a TA for two different professors, and trying to stay afloat with homework; it was blatantly obvious that at the end of the day, his energy tank and mood were extremely close to depletion.

Arnold found that his energy slowly replenished on his walk or bike ride home from campus, or just closing his eyes and soaking in the rays of the late afternoon sun.

He didn't know _why_ , but _maybe_ it was because he could allow himself to slow down and get lost in his thoughts or _maybe_ it was because he was actually _alone_.

Whatever the reason, it always caused him to breathe a sigh of relief he never realized he was holding.

Another pro about having early morning classes was that Arnold was usually the first of the housemates to get home, as not having any after class sports or clubs. This meant the apartment became his place of solitude for the next few hours.

With the Bluetooth speaker, which they lovingly called Darth, playing smooth Jazz lazily through the apartment, he poured himself a cup of Chamomile tea and sat on the window ledge.

Arnold enjoyed letting the smooth voice of the singer and trying to come up with a story for each passing pedestrian compete for his focus, as there was no clear winner.

Sometimes he let the sounds of the street below become background music and other times he let himself get _really_ creative with his stories. Everyday was a new and it was a constant he could always count on.

When Phoebe, Gerald, and Helga got home, Helga would usually drop her bag by the wall, pour a cup of tea for herself and join Arnold in the window, immediately jumping into whatever story he was currently creating or letting the mood of the song consume her.

He was always ever jealous of how quickly Helga could let her worries and troubles and insecurities melt away and become apart of the world he was trying to create.

Phoebe would smile at the blondes before tripping over Gerald's shoes and patiently reminding him for the umpteenth time that his shoes went on the _shoe_ rack and _not_ kicked off in random directions at the door.

Gerald would give her a quick kiss on the cheek and rummage the fridge for snacks while Phoebe rolled her eyes and walked over to the blondes.

Then it was time for homework. The living room floor and table becoming scattered with books, notebooks, highlighters and notecards as they all tried to tackle their mountain of homework.

Sometimes their homework session would run late, to which everyone would be too exhausted to cook and they'd order a pizza. Phoebe had Dino Sam's Pizzeria on speed dial and whomever answered the phone would already know their order just by hearing any of their names.

Other times they'd get lucky and be done, or reach a stopping point within a couple of hours and would choose to make dinner, alternating turns between the girls and guys.

Everything felt domestic to Arnold and he was quickly becoming content with living this way for the rest of his college years, potentially the rest of his life, at least with Helga.

Gerald and Phoebe would soon be starting their own life together and Arnold couldn't honestly expect them to continue this routine with the blondes forever. Apparently Helga was thinking the same thing.

Arnold remembered the first time he came home to little pile of boxes with familiar cursive handwriting Shapried on the side and stacked in the corners of the living room.

He thought nothing of it until more and more boxes appeared some with Phoebe and Gerald's handwriting mixed in. It quickly became a painful and constant reminder that she was _moving_ in less than a month _._

As the piles started growing taller and slowly taking over the already small living room, Arnold started distancing himself from his housemates.

He started doing homework in his room, turning the music in his earbuds as loud as they could possibly go to block out the occasional knocks and offers to study with them.

It always stung when _she_ would knock on the door and ask, her voice just a low whisper of _okay_ at his paper thin excuse.

He knew he was lying, to himself, Helga and everyone else when he told Helga that everything was _okay_ between them, just like she had lied at the beginning of this whole mess. But it wasn't. He wasn't okay.

* * *

It was Friday evening and Arnold was sitting in the living room by himself. His hands gripped the window ledge until his knuckles turned white as he glared at the maze of boxes.

He was looking forward to tonight as Friday's were usually Game Night with the gang and he could really _use_ a distraction. But since Helga was moving early the next morning, everyone agreed it would be best to reschedule for _next_ weekend.

It had taken all week and the majority of the night to talk himself into actually going to Game Night and seeing Helga again. Arnold had the seating arrangements and the conversation all planned out. He was ready. She was not.

Arnold sighed as he pressed his back against the glass of the window, the cold melting through his flannel shirt and providing instant relief to the hot skin of his back.

Gerald and Phoebe had decided to go out on a much needed date night, asking Arnold continuously Arnold if he was going to be okay. He cringes at how quickly he nodded, not fully understanding what they meant until he had shuffled them out the door.

He realized that he was _alone_ with Helga for the first time in weeks and it _scared_ him. He wasn't prepared to be left alone her so soon, so he panicked and locked himself in his room.

Arnold felt a pang of pain shoot through him at the finality of her decision, his eyes momentarily flickering to her room and the small pool of light flooding onto the hardwood floor.

He sighed, pushing off the ledge before freezing as the sound of laughter echoed out of her room and filled his ears like a punch to the gut.

Arnold tried to remember the last time he had genuinely made Helga laugh like that, cringing hard at the fact that he honestly couldn't remember a time. At least not when he wasn't on his knees or she was on hers and they were making a joke.

Another pang of pain shot through him, making him wince.

His head snapped up at another echo of laughter, this time Eugene's low rumbling voice following something Helga had said.

Arnold's hands curled into fists as he tried to place the emotion he was currently feeling, that was coursing angrily through his veins.

 _Jealousy_ , a voice answer smugly and he couldn't help but think how much it sounded like James.

Arnold dropped his head into his hands and groaned, his hands reaching up to run through his unruly blonde hair before pulling slightly in frustration.

 _How in the hell did this turn out so god damn badly?_

He realized everything was silent until the sound of Ed Sheeren's _Dive_ drifted through the crack of her door.

It reminded Arnold of the first time Eugene had come over to help Helga pack.

He had a light blue backpack slung lazily over his right shoulder, and Arnold couldn't help but wonder if he was spending the night. There were a few big folded boxes tucked under his arm, and a white earbud dangled against his white v-neck.

Arnold had never wanted to slam the door in someone's face more than he did right now but he took a deep breath, smiled and stepped aside.

He was pointlessly pointing Eugene towards Helga's room when the blonde came out to greet him, flinging herself into his arms and him dropping everything to swing her around like Ali and Noah from _The Notebook_.

Arnold would be lying if he said it didn't sting to watch them, but they had a bond that surpassed anything the blondes had and he'd have to accept that.

Although being easier said than done, he tried to greet Eugene every time with a handshake, fist pound or _something_. He'd usually try and save his glare for the punching bag or his bedroom.

He thought he was doing alright until Gerald had pulled him aside one night and asked him what was wrong. After not knowing what he meant, Gerald explained that Arnold had been making weird faces throughout the week and Eugene was becoming slightly concerned. It was then that Arnold realized he absolutely sucked at acting.

Arnold sighed again, his chest completely deflating as he started towards the kitchen. He maneuvered his way through the maze of boxes, careful to not bump the ones with fragile stuff in them.

He grabbed the kettle from its perch, not hearing the footsteps make their way into the living room, and filled it halfway. He put it back on its perch, plugged the kettle in, and pushed the button to turn it on.

He turned around, leaning against the counter and gasped in surprise as a pair of brown eyes stared back at him, eyebrow raised.

Eugene leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "You know, we could use some help." He smirked as Arnold's eyes flickered to Helga's room, lingering for a moment before shaking his head.

He could still hear Ed Sheeren but a new song was now playing. He hated the idea of them dancing together, even if it was strictly platonic.

"We both need space and time away from each other," Arnold said, trying convince himself as he rubbed a hand down his face.

He had thought about offering his help multiple times over the last few weeks, but he was also holding out hope that she would somehow change her mind and stay. That was until the pile of boxes started growing.

The sound of boiling water pulled him from his thoughts, turning to grab a ceramic mug from the cabinet before turning to talk over his shoulder to Eugene.

"Want some tea?"

Eugene smiled and shook his head, remembering a second too late that Arnold couldn't see him. "No, but thank you."

He unfolded his arms and moved more into the kitchen. "I've actually been sent to obtain snacks. We can't let the masses go hungry."

Arnold smiled, rolling his eyes as he reached up to grab a bowl while instructing Eugene where the chips and already popped popcorn was.

The kitchen was silent, except for the sound of popcorn and chips filling separate bowls and the clinking sound of a metal spoon stirring honey in a ceramic cup.

Arnold was thinking of an excuse to escape to his room when Eugene spoke up again, his focus still on the snacks.

"Do you plan on fixing this?" Eugene's voice was filled with curiosity and sympathy but with a firm undertone.

To some, it sounded like Eugene was prying, but Arnold knew he just wanted what's best for Helga and to see her happy. They really were like siblings sometimes.

"Of course," Arnold sighed, taking a long sip of tea and instantly burning his tongue. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth travel down his throat, feeling calm. Even if his body immediately felt like it was overheating.

"But she's right, I need to work on myself, and pray that I can fix this and didn't permanently lose someone extremely important to me."

Eugene hummed, picking at the popcorn as he tried to figure out wording for his next question.

"Do you love her?"

Eugene didn't know exactly what expression or outcome to expect, but _calm_ was not one of them. Arnold took a sip of his tea, closing his eyes for a moment before looking Eugene straight in the eye.

"As of right now, no. But that doesn't mean it can't change. Love is a strong word and not one I throw around lightly. I love her as a friend, and there's definitely something there that's more than just that, but I need to figure out my life before I can think about adding another person into it."

Eugene nodded, seemingly content with the answer. He started towards Helga's room before Arnold's voice stopped him.

"What about her?" His voice was low and hesitant, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. But if anyone were to know, it would be Eugene and Phoebe.

Arnold had also started to realize how hard and painful saying her name was. Every time he heard or said it, he'd get a sudden and quick pain shooting through his body.

When it first happened, he thought there was something severely wrong and had Gerald drive him to the ER.

They spent five hours between the waiting room, seeing the doctor, and getting scans to be told that he was healthy and to "take it easy" and come back if pain continues.

The kitchen was once again silent as Arnold glanced at Eugene who was stuffing popcorn into his mouth to buy more time.

"I think you said it perfectly," Eugene whispered, not wanting Helga to overhear. They were going to be living together; he didn't need to _already_ be on her bad side.

"That's a first," Arnold joked lamely, shaking his head at how bad that had _actually_ sounded before taking another sip of tea. "I should really go work on my research pap…."

Eugene smiled, shaking his head as he balanced a bowl in each hand.

"She's not _forgetting_ you, Arnold. She just needs to be able to live without you for a bit in order to be able or live with you, okay?"

Arnold wanted so badly to nod and end this painful conversation. But Eugene noticed his hesitation and was quicker.

"For this, whatever _this_ is, to work she needs to re-learn independence and a life that doesn't revolve around you. And vice versa.

You can't depend on each other for stability, if you yourself aren't stable, which is my theory as to why this decent idea went to shit so quickly.

Not to mention you're both jealous types, don't try and deny it, Arnold. Being jealous is fine but when you're both unsure of your feelings and the other person's feelings, it quickly becomes a toxic game that could lead to permanent damage. This isn't at all a final goodbye, it's not even goodbye, just a so long for now."

"Yeah," Arnold nodded, smiling slightly as Eugene walked back to Helga's room and shut the door. Maybe there was some hope still.

* * *

"Hey," Gerald called through the closed bedroom door, knocking twice before turning the knob and sticking his head in. A groggy and dazed blonde emerged from under his cocoon of sheets, squinting angrily at the bright sun.

"If one doesn't answer, since when did that become a synonym for "come in"?" Arnold asked, glaring as Gerald just smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"She's packed and heading out soon," Gerald started, gauging Arnold's reaction carefully.

"Oh….cool," Arnold offered lamely, running a hand through his bed head hair as he looked distractedly out his window. He was half hoping Gerald would just leave, but he never seemed to be lucky.

"Is that all you woke me for?" Arnold asked, trying to keep the bitter tone out of his voice. His plan was to sleep through her moving so he didn't have to face a potential goodbye.

Gerald studied Arnold and how much he resembled his fourth grade self. The hairstyle, the distant look in his eyes; everything just felt nostalgic and it caused him to laugh.

The kind where your stomach contracts and starts to hurt and you're wheezing for breath. Arnold just glared at him unamused, waiting for him to be done.

One the laughing subsided, Arnold gripped the sheets and pulled them over his head.

"If you're done laughing, I'm going back to bed." Arnold felt the pressure where Gerald was sitting alleviate and he thought he had left.

Until Gerald pulled the sheets from over his head and tossed them over the edge, causing them to land in a crumpled pile on the floor.

"You're lucky I don't sleep nude," Arnold glared, sifting up and pulling his knees to his chest. "Care to tell me _what_ you have about sleeping in on the _weekend?_ "

"Come see her off," Gerald said, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. Arnold's face contorted into a look of pain and and he suddenly found his flannel pants _extremely_ interesting.

"It's best right now to give her some spa.."

"Yes, yes, _space_ ," Gerald mimicked, rolling his eyes and making an annoyed rotating hand motion. He had talked this through with Arnold a million times over the past few weeks and while it was true, now wasn't the time for this conversation.

"She asked if you were coming out, so you have five minutes to get your ass out into the living room. Do _not_ make me come back in here, Shortman."

Arnold cringed at the sound of his last name, as it was really only a Helga and him thing; just theirs. He nodded, waiting for the door to shut before falling back and screaming into one of his pillow.

Helga was 95% sure Arnold wouldn't come out to see her off, despite Gerald telling her to "have patience with my main man". She couldn't help the urge stall for a few more seconds.

Phoebe, Gerald, Eugene and herself were standing in a semi circle in the living room, all with sight on Arnold's door without having to turn around.

Everyone would turn nervous glances to his door, willing for it to open or have him even shout a quick goodbye through the closed door.

Helga sighed, knowing she couldn't stall any longer, her new adventure was waiting. She turned to Gerald, who was standing next to her and held out a fist, giving him a small smile.

He looked at it before shaking his head and pulling her in for a hug, squeezing tightly.

"It's all gonna work out in the end," He whispered, giving her another squeeze as she closed her eyes and buried her nose deeper into his chest.

This wasn't like any of the times Arnold had hugged her. His heart was racing and he didn't smell like coconut, but instead some deodorant and a subtle spray or cologne.

Instead, it felt like a hug you give a sibling going off to college. Where you say goodbye and hug in the dorm room to avoid being embarrassed in front of potential significant others or friends.

Helga couldn't be more grateful that this man was going to be marrying her best friend. He was a great big brother, boyfriend, and someday husband and father. He was fiercely protective of her, even though they haven't always gotten along.

She pulled away and moved over to look at Phoebe who looked like she'd break down any second. Helga pulled her into a strong hug, eyes closing the moment her arms wrapped around her petite body and she momentarily let all her defenses and walls crumble.

"I'll miss you, but I'm only a phone call and half hour away," Phoebe whispered, squeezing tighter and burying her nose in Helga's shoulder.

"Take care of yourself and remember that I love you," Helga whispered, rubbing her back before pulling away, watching her lean heavily into Gerald as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

It was utterly insane to think of all the crazy adventures Phoebe had followed and helped her through. She had always stuck by Helga, even during her worst and she was eternally grateful.

Phoebe was the sister Olga couldn't be and while that wasn't fair, right now she honestly didn't care. Helga took one more backwards glance at Arnold's door before walking slowly over to Eugene.

The redhead looked up from his phone and smiled at her, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Ready?" He asked, his voice supportive and calm and soothing as his eyes flickered to Arnold's door.

"Yeah," Helga sighed, taking a deep breath as she smiled and resisted the urge to look back one more time. She definitely hoped this wasn't goodbye, but it sure as hell felt like it.

* * *

Arnold sat with his back against his bedroom door, listening for the final slam of the front door.

He swore when he heard the front door lock click shut, it sounded deafening and final. Helga had been waiting for him for twenty-five minutes, twenty minutes longer than Gerald had given him. Yet, Gerald didn't come in and force him.

Arnold moved to stand up, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath before opening the door. Ignoring the questioning looks from both Gerald and Phoebe, he walked slowly to Helga's room, old room and closed the door.

He could remember crystal clear every study session, late night movie marathon on the weekends, or when he was too tired to shuffle back to his room and would fall asleep snuggled close without actually touching.

Arnold stood in the middle, his back towards the door as he tried to remember the set up of her room before she had started packing. He couldn't remember. _Another thing you didn't know about her_ , the voice taunted. And it was right.

There was a soft knock on the door and Arnold remained silent knowing the person would enter anyway. He waited for who he assumed to be Phoebe to come check on him but was instead greeted by a familiar voice that gave his stomach butterflies.

"You lied," Helga said, her voice sounding soft, inviting but still demanding authority, much like her dancing. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he turned around to face her, soaking her in one last time.

She was wearing a white v-neck with a small pocket over her right breast. His flannel shirt wrapped tightly around the waist of her blue jeans with her pink Converse.

Helga's hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail, tied off her with her pink ribbon that he hadn't seen in _years_ and a red and white bandana wrapped around her head. He never thought she looked more beautiful and it almost killed him.

"How do you figure?" Arnold challenged, dropping his hands to stuff them in the pocket of his flannel pajamas and raised an eyebrow. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared challengingly back at him, hating how casual and nonchalant he came off.

"You said we were okay," Helga sighed, letting her arms drop and her eyebrows furrow. "Yet you didn't come see me off."

"It's wasn't a goodbye," Arnold started, wondering if he was saying this for her or himself.

"I'm sorry I didn't come out to see you, I just…." What exactly was he trying to say? He was just trying to figure out how he had managed to fuck up and lose someone who had stood beside him for _years_ in a matter of months.

"I know," Helga sighed, and he wondered if she actually knew what he was trying to say. She nodded, as if reading his mind before looking around the room that had been hers for the last three years.

"Eugene's waiting so I've gotta go," Helga started, her right hand reaching up to rub the back of her neck. "Eugene's waiting in the truck and wants to get unpacked before Tom comes over." She takes a step back and she swears he takes a step towards her, but the distance doesn't close and she's left to wishful thinking.

"Let me know…" Arnold hesitated, realizing he didn't have the power to say that anymore. They were cool, but that doesn't undo all the damage between them. He clears his throat. "Send pictures when you're all settled in, okay?" He asked, pleading with his eyes for her to just let the other slip up go.

"Will do," Helga smiled turning on her heel to walk out the door before a rough hand gripped her wrist, spun her around, and pulled her in for a tight hug.

"I'm so extremely sorry," Arnold whispered, inhaling Jasmine one last time as his nose dug into the crown of her head. He felt her body tense for a second before she hesitantly wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head into his chest. "For everything."

Helga could feel his heartbeat and the smell that was familiar to her yet not at all. He smelled like safety and happiness and everything good. But there was a side of Arnold that was dark and needed to be worked on, just as there was a dark side of her.

 _What's everything?_ A taunting voice yelled, but Helga just responded with, "I know. So am I."

Helga pulled back first, her lips curling into a smile and Arnold had to force his eyes to stay solely on hers instead of dropping down to her lips.

"I'll see you around?" Helga asked as she held out a fist causing Arnold to genuinely laugh for the first time in weeks.

"Can't get rid of me that easy, Helga," Arnold smiled, tapping her fist and then dropping his hands to his pockets as he watched her slip out the door and shut it with a click.

* * *

Later that evening, Arnold was sitting at the living room table, books and notebooks spread out around him on every surface possible.

He was taking notes and highlighting _everything_ in preparation for his upcoming test. Usually he studied with Helga, but Eugene had _insisted_ on throwing her a house-warming party.

Helga called to tell Arnold he was invited as to which he politely declined and teasingly told her she'd better not fail come Monday. In all truth, he didn't think he could face her so soon after saying "see you later".

He had his Pandora station playing through his phone when his annoying ringtone for Gerald popped up, followed by the screen filling with a goofy picture of the Afro'd man when he was a teen.

Gerald's hair was extremely tall and round, like a cylinder and he was wearing sunglasses and a heavy black leather jacket.

His hands were on the handlebars of a motorcycle, but in the full picture, his feet didn't touch the ground. This was pre-growth spurt.

Arnold smiled and swiped on the screen, holding the phone with his shoulder as he continued to fill out the notecard.

"How's Eugene and Helga?" Arnold asked, surprising even himself with how good of a mood he was in.

"Arnold," Gerald's voice was low and calm but he could hear the small tone of panic. Arnold immediately stopped writing and imagined all worst case scenarios. Robbed, kidnapped, raped, murdered...his imagination was _endless_.

"Gerald, what happened?" Arnold asked, bracing himself against the table to be able to stand up and out the door.

"They caught Wolfgang."

* * *

Hello,

I am so sorry for the weeks between updating. I can't tell you how many times I've sat at my computer or pulled Google Docs up on my phone and just stared at a blank screen or blinking cursor-I had a really bad case of writer's block and an even worse case of editor's block.

I wanted this chapter to be different than the others, a more bitter-sweet undertone but still a "pull at the heart-string" kind of chapter. It's nothing our characters can't bounce back from, they're Helga and Arnold, but it's going to be different and each character will handle that on their own and in their own way.

I wanted to have Arnold pull back a bit, because my original thought of having him be aggressive about having her stay wasn't going to work with him proving to Helga later that this person who he is right now isn't who he always was. Everyone has a dark side, but he needs to learn how to control it-and he will.

A huge shoutout to Writer25 for once again giving input and supporting me. Thank you to everyone who has commented, followed, favorited, and liked-and for all of those who have stuck beside me in my weeks of radio silence.

I should warn you that this next chapter will probably be shorter than the other previous chapters. I apologize!

See you hopefully soon,

Lovelyseoulwriter


	15. Chapter 15

_What?_

The heavy sigh of relief was out of Arnold's mouth before he could stop it, creating a noise of static against the speaker of his phone. He ran his right hand through his hair, making it even more unruly as he leaned back against the couch, his elbow resting against his knee as he propped his right wrist against his cheek.

He could feel his heartbeat returning to normal, no longer hammering against his chest, threatening to break through his ribcage and sprint down the sidewalk to wherever she was.

"Arnold?" Gerald called, his usual laid-back voice now filled with hesitancy, secrecy, and question; a mix that instantly wiped away any feeling of relief Arnold had in a tidal wave of worry and worse-case scenarios. "Did you hear what I said?"

There was something _off_ about Gerald's voice and question, like he knew something crucial that Arnold didn't.

"Yes," Arnold replied, hoping that the new undertone of panic that appeared in Gerald's voice was just a figment of his sleep deprived, overactive imagination. "That's good; great news even."

There was a beat of silence, less a second long but it felt like it dragged on for minutes. Arnold leaned forward, anticipating the worse as his hand pressed firmly against the glass table, ready to push himself up and out the front door.

"That's good news," Arnold repeated, hoping that Gerald just couldn't hear him over the background music or loud, overlapping conversations. But he quickly realized that there was no loud background noise, of any type. It was almost completely silent. "Right?"

"Yes," Gerald finally replied, slightly dragging out the S and Arnold could easily imagine his best friend leaning against a wall or a doorframe, one hand in his hair as he frustratingly tried to think of what to say next. "And no. Listen, I don't have a lot of time, but we're heading down to the police sta…."

 _How can news be good and bad?_

"What do you mean _yes_ and _no_?" Arnold asked slowly, his voice with silent desperation for Gerald to tell him _something. Anything._

Gerald gave a heavy sigh, the kind that usually preceded extremely bad and/or emotional news. The kind that a police officer does before they take off their cap and explain that there was an accident or that a surgeon does before they explain there were complications and they tried all they could possibly do to save him/her.

Arnold didn't want heavy sighs. He wanted to go back to studying, where all the answers were known or on the other side of a heavy, white notecard. Tangible, not through a phone screen giving cryptic answers that could mean everything good, everything good, and anything in-between.

"James is at the police station now for questioning, so we're about to head down…."

A loud crinkle of static filled the speaker, once again cutting of Gerald and causing Arnold to flinch and move the phone away from his ear.

"Arnold?"

It was Phoebe. She probably realized Gerald wasn't with the rest of the gang and came looking for him, finding him whispering into his phone and assumed, correctly that he was talking to him (Arnold). And this was probably after continuously warning him _not_ to call, text, or tell him _anything._

"Hey," Arnold said sheepishly, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck. "What's up?" He tried to keep his voice calm instead of quizzical. It obviously didn't work at all and he briefly wondered how Gerald was ever going to get _anything_ past Phoebe once they were married.

Phoebe rolled her eyes at the loaded question, before leaning back against the wall, stealing a quick glance at Helga.

"I don't know what Gerald told you," Phoebe glared slightly at her fiancé before continuing. "But everything is _fine_." She tried emphasizing how "fine" things were, but Arnold picked up on the undertone of worry and doubt-two words that did not regularly appear in the vocabulary of the raven haired genius.

"He just told me that Wolfgang got caught," Arnold said, pausing as he imagined Phoebe biting her lip, a nervous habit she had when she was trying to figure out what to say or how to proceed. "That's good news, right?"

Arnold was hoping to get _any_ answers out of Phoebe. Anything to let him know that James was getting justice, Wolfgang getting caught was good news, that Helga was okay.

"Um, yes," Phoebe says, her voice hesitant, as if deciding how much information is absolutely crucial to share with Arnold. "We're heading down to meet James but…."

Arnold's stomach dropped. Holding his phone with his shoulder, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, making the skin around his eyes red and sore. There were few times anything good came from a "but"-especially when the sentence before it was already filled with rough news.

"If this goes to court, and there's a heavy chance it _will_ , Helga will likely have to testify against Wolfgang."

 _What?_

"Why….why would _Helga_ have to testify? _James_ is the one that got attacked."

Helga testifying made sense to Arnold, as it she is an ex of Wolfgang and would be best to describe his character. But, he couldn't explain the swirl of emotions that sped past his eyes before blending into a blur of one color.

"Helga is James' best chance if this goes to trial," Phoebe explained carefully, her voice soothing but firm. "She was Wolfgang's longest girlfriend and most recent ex; she's the best chance James has of painting Wolfgang's character and that he is capable of repeating this type of physical attack."

Arnold quickly remembered why he prefered face to face conversation over talking on the phone and texting-he could read and watch facial expressions. If he had just gone to the party, he could _see_ her face, _talk_ to her in person and already know about this shitty situation instead of hearing about it over a phone call.

The words were out of his mouth before he could command them to be swallowed down, as if they had been resting on the tip of his tongue all night; waiting.

"How's Helga?"

Arnold held his breath, his lungs burning but he didn't want to make a sound and miss her answer. To talk over her and give her a reason to segway into another, less fresh-wound topic.

"She's….here," Phoebe offered, keeping her answer as vague as she possibly could, via request from Helga. She could tell Arnold wasn't satisfied with her answer and quickly tried to think of a more descriptive while still being vague response.

"She's acting strong; for James and the group. She's not thinking of "what if's" but everything is slowly getting to her."

Phoebe turned to look at the blonde who was currently leaned against the wall, bent over as she tied her shoe with sluggish, messy movements. Her eyes focused on the white wall opposite of her, her mouth in a thin, straight line.

"Arnold?" Phoebe said, her voice low as she watched Eugene move to stand next to her, keeping his distance but letting her know he was there. He looked over at Phoebe, smiling slightly before letting his hand run through his hair-even _he_ was stuck.

"Still here," Arnold whispered, staring blankly at the mess of white note cards that were scattered between the table and the floor.

"She needs you. She needs all of our support, but she really _needs_ you."

Arnold ignored the voice, the loud booming voice that screamed for him to _run_. To sprint down the sidewalks, weaving between pedestrians while mumbling half-assed apologizes but not stopping until he reached her. Until he had her in his arms, rubbing soothing patterns against her back as she listened to his heartbeat, eventually whispering a thank you into the front of his shirt.

But he wanted, _needed_ to respect the space, the time to heal from all the pain _he_ has cause. He can imagine his life without her for a small period of time; but he refused to imagine a life where she was _permanently_ not there.

"She _needs_ space," Arnold sighs, his voice tired as he had been arguing with himself through this whole conversation about whether or not he should _be_ there for her just like she's always been there for him.

"What she _needs_ ," Phoebe emphasizes, her words harsh as she almost spit the words through the phone speaker. "Is her _friend._ Which you _were_ and fucking _are_ first and foremost, despite this huge mess.

She _needs_ you to be supportive and put aside your pride and _be there_ for her."

"You're right," Arnold sighs, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the edge of the couch, letting his elbows dig into his fabric of his jeans over his knees.

There was a beat of silence, Arnold was about to hang up when Phoebe spoke again, her voice the usual soft and kind tone.

"She's strong- as a person, her personality and she's always been there for us when we need her. Yes, I agree that you both need space to work on your own stabilities, but that doesn't mean, in the slightest that you're excused from your responsibility as her friend."

"Okay," Arnold nods, suddenly feeling drained. "See you guys soon." He hangs up, tossing his phone lazily on the couch cushion beside him, groaning as fell back, letting his head rest against the back of the couch.

He sat for a few seconds, debating about locking himself in his room for the rest of the weekend when his phone screen lit up, a text message from Gerald, almost as if he was reading his mind-always a step ahead of him.

 **G: Driving down to the police station. It's going to be a long night- grab a coffee and we'll see you in fifteen. Don't make me come find you, Shortman.**

Arnold pushed off the couch, knowing Gerald would stay true to his word as he turned on his coffee pot, grabbing two To-Go mugs. Helga would need coffee, she must be exhausted and stressed and...

Helga.

Phoebe would tell her he's coming.

Someone would tell her he's coming.

Right?

* * *

Hi,

There's an author's note at the end of the next chapter that offers some explanations!

As always, A HUGE SHOUT OUT and THANK YOU to HappyLittlePsycopath and Writer25!


	16. Chapter 16

Nope.

Helga's ocean blue eyes, now dull with exhaustion and anticipation lifted tiredly at the sound of the door opening, widening in surprise as they met bright emerald green ones.

The corner of her lips lifted slightly into a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes before it fell into a thin line, as if all her energy and strength was instantly zapped by that small movement.

Arnold briefly let his eyes wander around the room, scanning the gang scattered between sitting in chairs and sitting on the floor, their back against the wall as the crook of their elbows hooked around their knees.

His eyes landed on Helga, who was sitting in-between Eugene, on her left and Phoebe to her right. Her legs were out in front of her, shoulder width apart as her focus remained firmly on a stain on the floor.

Phoebe's right hand was wrapped firmly around her upper arm, occasionally squeezing gently as she continued her hushed conversation with Gerald.

They must have been talking about him because Gerald kept looking at him out of his peripheral, and it takes all of Arnold's self control to not stick out his tongue.

Arnold's eyes shifted to Eugene, immediately zoning in on his shoulder pressed firmly against Helga's but otherwise, keeping his distance. He catches Arnold's gaze, smiling slightly as he turned to look at Helga, studying her before slightly shaking his head.

 _Was that a sign? What did it mean?_

He didn't have time to analyze further as Gerald move to stand up, squeezing Phoebe's knee before walking to meet Arnold by the door. "What's up?" Gerald sighed, running a hand through his hair as he held his hand out for their familiar handshake.

Arnold smiled slightly, holding out his hand to complete their handshake as he studied Gerald. His brown eyes held exhaustion but his laid-back personality was back.

 _A good sign._

Gerald knew that Arnold had a lot of questions, about James, the possibility of testifying, and more importantly, Helga. But he was honestly just too exhausted for rapid fire question/answer and wanted nothing more than to go home, snuggle with Phoebe, and sleep for the _rest_ of the weekend.

"How is…." Arnold paused, hesitating as he tried to figure out how to ask a question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to. He looked over Gerald's shoulder at Helga, his chest clenching as he saw Helga leaning back against the wall, her eyes closed with her long legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed tightly over each other.

Arnold looked back at Gerald, running a hand through his hair.

 _Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have come._

"She's _okay_ ," Gerald shrugged, sighing heavily as he turned to look at Helga over his shoulder, thinking it was probably best to change the subject.

He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, smirking as he nodded at the metal to-go mug in Arnold's hand.

"How _sweet_ , you brought me coffee."

"It's for Helga," Arnold laughed, shaking his head as he was about to rebuttal. It almost felt normal to be joking with Gerald; almost.

"Oh, I see how it is," Gerald jokes, shaking his head as he reaches both hands above his head and leans back to stretch, the edge of his sweater lifting slightly. He cracks his back, groaning in relief as he looks back at Arnold, rubbing the back of his neck.

"She could use a coffee, hasn't left for caffeine or food or anything."

Arnold could hear the undertone of worry in his voice, but he forced himself to stay nonchalant and not panic.

"What's happening now?" Arnold asked, lifting his hand to casually scratch his nose, just to give him something else to focus on.

He looked around the room at the gang, the mixed emotions of anxiousness and anticipation filling the room.

His gaze falls on Lila, smiling at her head resting against Stinky's shoulders, his right hand resting on her thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing patterns against her skinny jeans.

Lila caught his gaze, smiling her usual smile at him but it didn't reach her eyes. Nobody's smile did.

She let her gaze flit to Helga, sighing quietly before looking back at Arnold and shaking her head slightly

 _Another sign? A different sign? The same sign?_

Gerald's low voice brought Arnold out of his thoughts, realizing that Gerald was talking and catching the tail end.

"James is in questioning right now. He's been in questioning for about an hour now, we're not sure if he's already ID'd Wolfgang." Gerald paused, lowering his voice before continuing. "We'll find out tonight if this is going to trial and if James and Helga will need to testify."

"How is Helga taking all of this?" Arnold asked, looking at Helga, her head now leaning against Phoebe's shoulder, her eyes closed. She looked peaceful, but the way her fingers were digging into her fists told him she was anything _but_.

"She's…." Gerald hesitates as he sighs, running a hand through his hair and tries again. "We've been sitting here for about an hour and a half now with no news. I mean, she's strong, but the anticipation and exhaustion and anxiousness from the group is starting to get to her."

Gerald wanted to say more, but was cut off by a small hand squeezing his shoulder. Phoebe smiled at Arnold, appearing next to Gerald and looking up at him with love, worry, anxiety, and exhausted.

He smiled back, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and pulling her close, closing his eyes as he leaned down to place a small kiss on her temple. Phoebe smiled before turning to face Arnold.

"You should go talk to her." Her words her soft, bordering on a suggestion, even though Gerald, Phoebe, and Arnold knew that it wasn't. Arnold nodded, hesitating as his legs felt like they were full.

He took a deep breath, holding out his hand distractedly to give a fist pound to Gerald, squeezing Phoebe's shoulder as a silent thank you, for telling him what he needed to hear and for giving him that final push.

Arnold kept walking, slowly and cautiously until he was only a few feet away. His hand running through his hair nervously as Eugene immediately looked up, on high alert and made eye contact with him.

Eugene smiled, nodding once at Arnold as he gently shook his shoulder, attempting to wake Helga up. She jolted, her eyes flying to the door when Eugene gripped her shoulders, telling her that everything was fine but he needed to get up and stretch.

She slouched against the wall, catching her breath as she nodded, using the heel of her palm to rub her eyes, watching as he stood and walked over to Rhonda and Curly. Rolling his eyes at their conversation, pulling up a chair and listening to their heated conversation to which Curly was _obviously_ losing.

Arnold noticed that everyone kept the two blondes in their peripheral, not obviously but enough to jump in if things got heated or if shit hit the fan. He sighed as he sat down, keeping a slight distance between them as he let his head fall back against the wall.

They sat in silence, Arnold kept sneaking glances of her from his peripheral, studying and memorizing her. She was wearing the plain white t-shirt from earlier, but she changed from her grey sweatpants to dark, blue skinny jeans, the pair with a small zipper going horizontally on the hem.

Helga's long blonde hair was curled and pulled back into a messy ponytail with a red and white bandana that was tied and hidden at the base of her neck.

Her bottom lip was in-between her teeth, a sign that he picked up from years of knowing her that she was nervous and anxious. He hated this awkward feeling, wracking his brain for a way to break the awkward bubble. His focus landing on the to-go mug forgotten in his hands, still warm and filled with her favorite coffee.

"Coffee?" Arnold offered, moving his hand to wrap around the lid to avoid grazing or touching her hand at all. Now wasn't the time for him to try and figure out his mess of emotions and feelings for her.

She needed him and he was going to be there for her. No matter what. It just might confuse the hell out of his heart and heart in the process.

"Thanks," Helga smiles softly, reaching out for the bottom of the mug, leaving a small amount of space between their hands. They continued to sit in silence, Helga occasionally taking small sips from the mug, her head falling back and her eyes closing in relaxation.

Score one for Arnold: he got her coffee right without help from Phoebe or Gerald. Arnold looked at his watch, the clock face reading 1:45 AM.

He listened to the loud tick from his watch, debating whether or not he should just go home when Helga started talking, her voice low and hesitant.

"Thank you, Arnold."

She wasn't looking at him, instead focusing on the mug in-between her hands but there was a small smile on her lips and a slight crinkle by her eye. He wondered if this was her first genuine smile since the phone calls and it made his chest clench and his heart beat a bit quicker.

He wasn't sure if she was thanking him for the coffee or what _exactly_ she was thanking him _for_ but she should know now that he would do almost anything for her.

Arnold smiled, letting his head fall back and hit the wall. He looked over at her, his hair brushing against the wall as he expected to see her still staring at the mug- but was surprised when he saw her ocean blue eyes for the second time tonight.

She still looked tense, but he could tell she was starting to relax a bit.

"Anytime," Arnold whispers, his smiling getting wider as he pulled his legs into his chest, pushing his shoes together as he leaned them on their edge, the toe and heel of his shoes touching and hooked the crook of his elbows around his knees, his right hand gripping his left wrist.

"I'll always be here for you. Always. No matter what."

Arnold wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, as at that moment, everything fell into silence-as if waiting to hear her response.

He panicked, trying to think of a way to properly reword his sentiment without it losing meaning when she scooted closer, hesitating only once before leaning over to rest her head against his shoulder.

Arnold jerked in surprise, his body going stiff as he looked over and down at her, already starting to pull away. He could only imagine the look on his face and felt guilty-as he didn't mind it, it just caught him off guard. He grabbed her wrist.

"Please don't."

There were so many things that he meant by that, that he wanted to say to her but he was worried she would misconstrue it as feeling sorry for her or letting the emotions of today impact his motives.

So, he held his tongue as she rested her head back on his shoulder with no hesitation. The grip on her wrist loosened, his thumb rubbing soothing patterns against the underside of her wrist.

Arnold let his head fall back against the wall, his eyes starting to close as he succumbed to the feeling of exhaustion and the rare moment of normality between himself and Helga.

He felt her starting to relax against him, almost like the negative events of the past month and a half didn't happen.

But the serenity didn't last and the past month and a half did happen. The moment his eyes starting to drift close, the door opened, a loud voice booming around the room.

"Helga Pataki?"

* * *

Hi,

It's been over a month since I've posted an actual chapter; a month and five days to be exact. I'm really sorry about the hiatus, it wasn't planned and I kind of lost motivation, inspiration, and my health was top priority. It was difficult to write a chapter that is supposed to be filled with emotions when mine weren't in check, at all. But, I'm back, with two chapters for you lovely people who have waited and supported me! I am so extremely grateful for all of you.

I wanted to save the author's note until the end of this chapter so I can explain some things. I wrote Helga possibly having to testify because it shows that even though she's strong and passionate, she can't do this alone and while she's there 100% to support James, she needs 100% support from everyone, including Arnold. I also wrote it as a way for conflict to be brought out in Arnold, by Arnold. Because while they both need space and time to heal, he needs to find that sweet balance. He's already starting to and things can only look up from here. Right?

I'm a bit iffy on the content and word count of my chapters, as they're both extremely short (in comparison to my previous chapters) and I don't want to feel like I'm stiffing you guys of good content. I've bugged and annoyed some of my friends to read this and everyone has given me the green light.

As per usual, a HUGE SHOUT OUT to Writer25 and HappyLittlePsycopath for editing, providing amazing feedback, and bouncing ideas with me during my rough patch. They're amazing and I don't know what I would do without them.

Thank you to all who have been patient with me and this story. The ending is in sight, but I'm more than likely leaning towards a sequel, but I kind of want to see how this story ends before I for sure say anything.

Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, liked, favorited, and followed my story. Because of all of you, my story has reached over 10,000 views! I know that's not a huge thing, but it's a thing I'm so proud and a bit shocked at; so THANK YOU!

If I don't post before the holidays, and to those who choose to celebrate, have an extremely SAFE and CANDY FILLED HALLOWEEN!

See you soon!


	17. Chapter 17

Helga has _always_ disliked her full name. Helga Geraldine Pataki. It wasn't the name itself that caused her eyes to squeeze painfully shut, or for her nails to dig painfully into the skin of her palm, or even for her body to become completely tense. No, it was because nothing but bad news _always_ seemed to ensue when people said her full name.

All eyes were glued to the tall man standing, or rather _filling_ the doorway with his broad shoulders and toned body. Helga's eyes flickered to the right side of his uniform, looking at his shiny metal name tag reading **G. Michaels** in thick, black lettering.

She noticed a thick, titanium wedding ring as Michaels ran his left hand through his auburn hair, his face carefully wiped of any hints of frustration or news from the hour and half questioning with Wolfgang.

Helga noticed the holder where his handcuffs _should be_ was unsnapped and empty. She felt a rush of panic as she immediately looked on the other side of his belt, finding his gun in it's holster and snapped closed. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes," she answered, cringing at how shaky and scared she sounded, like a little girl who lost her mommy in the grocery store. _Put on your big girl pants, Pataki. Now isn't the time to be scared_.

"Yes, that's me. How may I help you?"

 _How may I help you? Seriously? Who are you? Lila?_

Michaels smiled kindly, the kind that he has spent his twelve years on the force perfecting. The one that held sympathy and kindness but didn't reveal any news until he was ready.

"I would like to speak with you." He hesitates briefly, watching as the room shifts carefully, everyone bracing themselves for the news. He hated doing it this way, but a room full of sleep deprived young adults getting difficult news was not in anyone's best interest right now.

"Alone, if you will."

Helga nods, pausing only to try and read his face before sighing and moving to squat, letting her knees pop slightly before moving to stand. She feels a firm grip on her wrist, only then remembering that Arnold was holding her wrist.

She looked down, staring as his thumb was no longer rubbing soothing patterns against the skin, but instead holding it almost _possessively._ She took another deep breath, reminding herself that this was neither the time nor the place try and guess his cryptic gestures.

Helga had to focus on mentally and physically preparing herself for whatever new, either good or bad that Officer Michaels was about to tell her. She had to be strong for James, and she couldn't do that when she was swooning over Arnold.

"Arnold?" she whispers, moving a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she tried to remember how to breathe fully and properly. "Arnold?" She tries again when his eyes remain focused on Michaels, his grip slightly tightening.

Helga rolled her eyes playfully as she pulled her wrist, not hard enough to break his grip but enough to cause him to look away from Michaels and over at her in worry and confusion.

"I need my wrist back."

She holds up her wrist and his hand, giving him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He knew she was full of emotions and wanted nothing more than to fold her in his arms, pretend this was a bad dream, and drift off to sleep.

Arnold slightly smiled back, the corner of his lips barely lifting as he let her go, watching her stand as he ran his hand through his hair to wipe away some of the sweat on his palm.

"We'll be right here," Arnold whispers, folding and lazily dropping his hands into his lap. He wanted to say "I'll be right here", but she had so much else to worry about.

Maybe she wouldn't have even caught it. Maybe she would have.

Helga couldn't help but think his voice sounded distant, even if he was sitting right in front of her. She couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion from tonight's events, studying, or the anxiousness and uncertainty of waiting for news, either good or bad.

Maybe he was regretting coming down at all. She reminded herself to thank him later, when this nightmare was over and she had more than four hours of sleep

"Okay," Helga nods, walking slowly to the doorway, clenching her hands into fists, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm to stop them from shaking. She didn't say anything or turn around to wave as she reached for the handle and pulled the door shut behind her.

* * *

"How're you doing?" Gerald asked; Arnold being extremely grateful that he broke the silence he had been painfully sitting in. He slid down the wall next to Arnold, leaving his right knee pulled to his chest as he stretched his left fully out.

"I'm….doing," Arnold shrugged, unsure what answer Gerald was actually looking for him to say. He kept staring at the door, burning holes through the metal before sighing heavily and letting his head fall back against the wall.

"I'm extremely anxious and exhausted, but otherwise fine." A beat of silence before, "how's Phoebe?"

Gerald looked over at his fiance, the woman of his dreams and the best friend, practically sister to blonde woman who was probably currently going through or is in hell right now.

Phoebe had her head resting against Eugene's shoulder, eyes closed with a small smile on her lips as she listened to him ramble on about a new musical on Netflix. She would add input every now and again, but mostly just enjoy and let him talk.

Phoebe knew what Eugene was doing; he was providing a distraction so Gerald could be the distraction Arnold needed, _although_ a distraction might not fully be what the blonde haired man needed right now.

This could be the very wake-up call both blondes needed to start healing and progressing forward without all the backsliding. It was honestly getting exhausting to watch and listen to.

Gerald took a deep breath.

"She's doing," he answered, smirking as he mimicked Arnold's earlier answer. "She's trying to be strong, but we're all just kind of tired and anxious and on edge right now. I can't even imagine what Helga's feelings and emotions are like right now."

 _Checkmate._

Gerald smiled as he watched Arnold tense, his knees sliding into his chest as his hands balled into fists and his jaw tightened. He waited for a few seconds before continuing.

"Do you regret coming down?"

"No," Arnold answered quickly. "Not at all." He bit his tongue to stop the words resting on the edge of it from slipping out.

"She's grateful for you coming down; for being here and supporting her. When she was talking to you, it was the calmest we've all seen her all night. I know Phoebe's extremely grateful."

"Not a problem," Arnold nodded, his head continuing to bob for a few more seconds before he let it rest back against the wall. "You and Phoebe were right, I needed to be here."

Gerald could sense there was more Arnold wanted, _needed_ to say. He crossed his arms over his knee, watching Phoebe and Eugene as he waited patiently for Arnold to find his words.

"But, it just solidified things for me and that terrifies me." Arnold's voice was so low, barely above a whisper that Gerald wouldn't be sure he would hear it if he wasn't sitting next him.

"Solidifies?" Gerald questions, probing for him to continue on. "How so?"

There was another moment of pause and Gerald prayed that Arnold hadn't suddenly realized that he didn't have _any_ feelings for Helga and was going to tell him about his plans to call the "leggy brunette".

Arnold, realizing he was trapped looked around the room for _any_ sort of distraction that would end this conversation. It was a futile attempt as everyone was either trying to nap, or distract each other.

He sighed, letting his head fall back with a thud and groaned loudly. He looked over at Gerald who was smiling at Phoebe while patiently waiting for him to continue. He quickly realized there was _no way_ Gerald would drop this conversation, accept a bull-shit excuse, or give him an easy way out.

"I…." Arnold hesitated, unsure where exactly to start and how to put his thoughts and feelings into words that Gerald would understand.

"When you called, my mind _immediately_ jumped to the worse-case scenario, but _only_ for Helga. Like, I couldn't help thinking that maybe she had gotten murdered or raped while on the way to the store this evening. Or….or some other absurd but also completely rational thing that could happen and does happen all the time to unsuspecting people…."

Gerald kept his eyes closed as he tried to piece together the relevance of how this solidified anything _other than_ Arnold's overactive imagination and completely forgetting that Helga Pataki is a badass.

"Okay and…."

Arnold was already talking over him and Gerald was sure he would be pacing too if they were in his room instead of at the police station with their whole friend group stuffed in a small room, while also pretending not to listen.

"...and I was just _ready_ to run out of the apartment and down the sidewalk like a bat out of hell. Just to run to her. Without even _knowing_ the situation she was in. LIke, what if you guys were being robbed and held at gunpoint and I just ran in there.

That would be a huge fucking disaster, but I didn't think about that. I didn't think about my safety or anything but _getting_ to her. And if I were perfect, I would like to think that I would do and feel that way for _all_ my friends…." Arnold hesitates, and Gerald can really tell how much what he's going to say next bothers him.

"But I wouldn't. In all honesty, I wouldn't _just_ run without knowing the full situation and coming up with a plan. I like having plans, with everything in my life _but_ her."

"Why do you think that…."

Gerald stopped trying to ask questions and just listened once Arnold started talking over him again. It was honestly as if Arnold was alone in his room, arguing and debating with himself, which Gerald, Phoebe, and Helga have heard through the wall a couple of times.

"...and I couldn't _think straight_ because I was worried that I was too late and she was dead. And I think...I honestly think that my rash reaction and everything that has followed tonight wasn't because she's just a friend and we were "fuck buddies".

I think I've always known, to some degree that she's more to me than a friend, but it took me thinking she was dead or in serious danger to realize that I'm falling hard and fast in love with her."

There it was. Out in the open, the thing everyone could see _but_ the blondes. Gerald watched as Arnold froze, watching the gears turn in his head as he replayed what he'd just said before groaning and pushing the heels of his palms into the skin under his eyes.

"Why do you feel like you are, or have been, falling for her?" Gerald asked, wanting to be extremely sure that this miraculous realization wasn't just the heavy weight of the emotions, events, and exhaustion of the night. "You _could_ just really care."

Arnold smiled as he pulled his knees into his chest, resting both elbows on them before running his hands through his hair and tugging gently.

"I thought that too. Throughout the time where I barely saw her because of packing and Eugene always coming over, I still felt like I had before all of this went down. Nothing, emotional wise had "changed".

I analyzed my feelings and what had happened over the past month and a half and thought everything was fine. I had myself tricked into believing that we were just releasing tension and stress and that everything would eventually go back to normal when she moved out, but then _it_ happened."

"It?" Gerald asked, his eyes flickering to Phoebe and Eugene, both of whom were looking at him with questioning stares. He gave them a quick head shake before turning back to Arnold.

"I was walking downtown, on my way home from classes, when I came across a little shop. It was an antique shop. I was immediately drawn to it, so I went in, looked around for a bit and right as I was about to leave, I found a necklace that I was _instantly_ drawn to.

I didn't know _why_ and, at the time, it didn't make sense but I kept going back day after day after day. One day, I went in and the necklace wasn't there. I was instantly filled with nothing but panic and emptiness that I couldn't explain.

I asked the older man behind the counter if the necklace had found a good home and he said that it was just being cleaned and to come back tomorrow. I came back the next day and he just _gave_ me the necklace. Completely free of charge."

Gerald held his breath, hoping he knew where this was going.

"My first thought, my very first thought as I was walking home was how it would look against _Helga's_ pale, soft skin. How I would get lost in how it would contrast perfectly against her ocean blue eyes and forget everything I had rehearsed.

To stumble and trip over my words before just motioning for her to close her eyes, walk behind her and clasp the necklace into place."

Gerald looked deep in thought for a second before _something_ clicked. It _all clicked_. "That was the reason you didn't come out to say goodbye. You were hoping for her to stay but…."

"But only by her own choice," Arnold finished for him, leaning to the side to pull out a small box before handing it over to Gerald. "I wasn't going to force her. It had to be her decision, it always does."

Gerald opened the box to see small gold leaves outline the thin chain. In the middle was a single pink diamond. He was completely 100% serious.

He looked over at Arnold to find him smiling goofily at the necklace, not aware that Phoebe was silently squealing behind her hand and Eugene was smiling with pride. Everyone else was too wrapped up in their own small conversations to notice.

"When do you think you fell or…."

Arnold took the box back, snapping it shut as if he _just_ realized Helga could walk through the door at any moment and see the necklace. He took a deep breath, smiling at the box once more before slipping it back into his pocket.

He looked around, trying to see if anyone else saw the box, breathing a sigh of relief when only Phoebe and Eugene gave him a secret thumbs up.

"I think deep down, _deep, deep down,_ I've _always_ known. It made sense why my other relationships never worked, I was always secretly comparing them to my relationship with Helga.

But tonight solidified my feelings and everything else just kind of fell into place. The passion, always wanting to be near her, to touch her, kiss her, make her scream my name, only _my_ name.

The possessiveness; _everything_ makes sense when you look at it from a point of view that isn't friend based. And tonight, I couldn't imagine my life without her but the reason I was so hesitant about coming come down was because I don't know if she is or was starting to imagine her life without me. And that might have just killed me.

I've hurt her, she's hurt me. We've both said some horrible things to each other and we are toxic for each other _right now_. But, her head on my shoulder and my hand wrapped around her wrist is something I want for the rest of my life.

I'm willing to work on the toxicity and moving forward and growing up, if only for the one chance to ask her to be my girlfriend and one day make me the happiest man alive. But, baby steps."

Arnold smiled, leaning his head back as he breathed a sigh of relief. It felt so good to say it out loud.

* * *

Hi~

So, I have a major itch to write _something_ , that's random and out there but I don't do well when I don't have guidelines.

SO

I thought it would be fun to do a type of interaction with you guys.

So, anybody who either comments OR messages me on my Tumblr (ashortpath) will get a one-shot written about _**WHATEVER** _they choose!

As usual, A HUGE THANK YOU to HappyLittlePsycopath and Writer25 for proof reading and editing and bouncing ideas!

A GIANT THANKS to everyone who comments, follows, favorites, or reads this story! I appreciate you all!

Hope everyone had a SPOOKY and Happy Halloween!

Only TWO WEEKS AND FOUR DAYS until THANKSGIVING!

So much to be grateful for~

See you soon(ish)!


	18. Chapter 18

"Miss Pataki?"

Officer Michaels leaned forward cautiously, his left arm resting along the edge of the metal table.

His eyes searched her face for _any_ sign that she had heard him-his eyebrows scrunching together in concern when she continued to stare blankly over his left shoulder at a spot on the wall.

"Helga?" Michaels asked again, raising his voice slightly as he ran an agitated hand through his short, auburn hair.

He knew she had been through a lot tonight and him being tense _wasn't_ going to help. He took a deep breath, crossing his arms loosely and resting both elbows on the table.

"Did you hear what I said?"

Helga jolted, closing her eyes and shaking her head so the stray pieces from her ponytail whipped around and hit her cheeks.

"Yeah, sorry," she said distractedly, leaning forward and pushing the heels of her palms against the sore skin under her eyes.

"I heard you, I'm just a bit confused." She dropped her hands, mimicking Michaels position as her eyes flickered up to meet his, the bridge of her nose wrinkling slightly.

" _Why_ me?"

Michaels hesitated, closing his eyes briefly as he replaced Helga with his sixteen year old daughter.

He tried to imagine every means he'd go through for Hailee to try and a substantial answer, but he _couldn't_. He simply didn't _have_ _one_. He had spent the better half of an _hour_ trying to _get_ one.

"I was actually _hoping_ ," Michael's started slowly, looking Helga square in the eyes while making sure to keep anything _but_ calm out of his voice.

"That _you_ could possibly tell me _why_."

He had _no doubt_ in his mindthat Helga was not involved in _any way_ , but Wolfgang's request completely caught him off guard. He had no idea what game Wolfgang was playing _or_ what his next move was.

"Could he possibly think you _knew_ something that could help him? Hurt him? _Anything_ at all?"

Helga blinked a few times, her mind searching for whatever missing piece Wolfgang _thought_ she had. Whatever piece that could possibly help him….

Then it _all_ clicked. She slowly shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed as her hands balled into tight fists against the table.

 _No. No, no, no, no, no._

Helga knew his plan, the game he was playing and his next move.

 _You_ _ **need**_ _to tell him_.

"We dated," Helga sighed, the words coming out in a harsh breath. She didn't know who this information would be more damning to; Wolfgang or James.

 _You didn't do anything wrong; except date him_ , a little voice whispered, and she couldn't help but think how it sounded like Phoebe. It gave her the boost of confidence she knew she was going to need.

"For a little over two years. _I_ broke up with _him_ because he was constantly cheating on me."

Officer Michaels pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, frustration, and disgust. He knew Wolfgang's game- he just hoped he was wrong.

"You know," Michaels said, trying to keep the strong emotion out of his voice and that this is solely _her_ choice. Not his. Not Wolfgang's. Hers.

"You are under _no_ obligation to do this."

"I want to," Helga said, moving to stand up from her chair, pressing both hands firmly on the tabletop.

"Alright, let's go then."

* * *

The walk was silent, like a condemned man walking to his death; his fate signed, sealed, and waiting patiently ahead of him.

Officer Michaels looked back at Helga, thoroughly impressed with how her face, filled with emotions just moments ago was now void of anything but a scowl.

The door was only a few steps away when he slowed his pace, giving her one last chance to turn back, even though he _knew_ she wouldn't.

"If you need me," Michaels emphasized, jerking his hand to the right of the door at the two way mirror.

"For _any_ reason, knock three times."

Helga nodded, resting her hand heavily against the handle.

She took a deep, long breath, holding her head high. _I am a Pataki._ _ **We**_ _are strong._ _ **I am strong.**_ She twisted the handle, unsure about the _monster_ waiting on the other side.

* * *

Helga almost gasped in shock when she saw Wolfgang; he looked extremely _different_. Older, but with more jagged edges.

His dirty blonde hair, something she used to love to run her fingers through, was now long and greasy, the ends stopping against his neck.

Wolfgang's chocolate brown eyes looked empty, more devious as they looked up slowly to focus on Helga, his lips neither in a smile nor a frown.

She let the door slam shut behind her, following it to lean casually against it as she patiently waited for him to address her.

 _He wanted to speak with me. Let him speak first._

"Helga," Wolfgang breathed, his voice hitching slightly as if it had been just _too long_ since he's seen her.

 _It hasn't been nearly long enough_ , Helga thought bitterly.

She had to admit, it was a _low blow_ to use the voice that _used_ to make her weak in the knees. But that was _before_ she had found out what kind of monster he truly was.

"You're looking extremely well."

Helga crossed her arms tightly over her chest, creating a barrier between them, but Wolfgang noticed how the fingers of her right hand dug into the exposed skin of her arm.

 _This is going to be too easy._

"Let's skip over the pleasantries," she said, channeling all the anger, frustration, lies, and pain _he's_ caused, using them to turn her voice cold and emotionless.

Wolfgang was quickly losing the upper hand, his mouth twitching in annoyance as he had to think of a new plan, and fast.

"I miss you; I miss _us_. We were good together, we were right." He reached towards her, his face cringing in pain as the handcuffs dug into his skin.

 _She always did have a soft spot for me,_ Wolfgang thought victoriously, holding back a smirk as he watched her face contort into one of concern, her annoyed, macho act melting away instantly.

Helga moved quickly across the room, sitting down on the edge of the seat across from him, immediately leaning forward and resting her hand in his outstretched palm.

She bit her lip as she stared into his chocolate eyes. .

"Baby, I _need_ you."

"I miss you, too," Helga whispered, her voice breathless; sweet and wistful, like she had spent the last two years up all night _crying_ over him and wondering where everything went wrong.

Thank God she was one _hell_ of an actress.

"You _have_ to _believe_ me," Wolfgang pleaded, his voice similar to those nights where he promised there were no other girls.

And Helga would have believed him if not for the hickeys peeking out from the edge of his low cut t-shirt and the girl's body spray that wasn't _hers._

"I _didn't_ do it; you _know_ me."

Wolfgang looked at her like he did when they had first started going out, before he had lied, cheated on her repeatedly and broke her.

She believed him when he told her that nobody would ever love her and that he was sorry each and every time. He played off her deep rooted insecurities like a monster feeding off of fear.

"I know," Helga nodded, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hands, feeling nauseous when he smiled at her, squeezing her hands in his.

She'd let him believe he had control, lure him into the same false sense of security he had her. Then tear it away and watch him unravel.

"You _have_ to help me," Wolfgang whispered, aware of the microphones recording in the room. His lawyer told him to make their voices _extremely_ clear.

"They want this to go to trial."

 _It should. You're a fucking awful human being._

"Why!" Helga shrieked, making her voice go up an octave and full with worry, wanting to punch him in the face when he smirked and leaned back against his chair.

 _Hook, line, and sinker_ , Wolfgang thought.

" _James_ wants to press charges. He claims he heard my "name". I wasn't even _there_!"

"Heard your name?" Helga asked, her voice filled with confusion. "What do you mean?" She wanted him to _say it._

To admit that he kicked him until his ribs broke, until he begged for mercy, but he just laughed and continued anyway.

"I don't know," Wolfgang tried to seem nonchalant as he tried to think of a way out of the corner she backed him into. "When he got jumped or whatever."

"Jumped?" Helga questioned, her eyebrows scrunching together. "I thought James got into a fight?"

Wolfgang jolted and Helga could see the gears in his head turning rapidly.

"That's what I _said_ , got into a fight," Wolfgang said, his voice holding an undertone of agitation. He was getting nervous. He needed to relax.

He dropped his voice, making it sound desperate and pleading, like she was his _only_ hope.

"But I _wasn't there._ And if this goes to trial, it'll _ruin_ my reputation. The jury will take one look at me and I'll be "guilty"."

"What do you need me to do?"

Helga dropped her voice, making it sound determined.

"Testify for me," Wolfgang whispered, squeezing her hands. She could feel his sweaty palms, her mind immediately wishing they were Arnold's rough, calloused familiar ones instead.

She had to stall, looking around like she was deep in thought, she looked down, noticing a bruise on his knuckle and a faded bite mark on the skin between his right thumb and forefinger.

"What happened," Helga asked, playing dumb and rubbing her thumb over the dark black and blue bruise. It was still fresh.

Wolfgang cringed, jerking his hands away as his face contorted into one of anger and defensiveness.

"I got into a fight with the old man," he said bitterly, closing his eyes as he remembered a second too late that he _needed_ her on his side; his freedom and reputation with the ladies depended on it.

"I'm sorry for snapping," Wolfgang said, rubbing his thumb against the smoothness of her skin. It just reminded her off all the times he would punch the wall just to the right of her head, freeze, and then kiss her and promise he didn't mean it and was sorry.

He was lying then and he's lying now.

"Want to hear a fun fact?" Helga asked, absentmindedly rubbing her finger over the bite mark, applying just enough pressure for his face to cringe as a shot of pain ran up his arm.

"Yes."

Wolfgang leaned closer, his face filled with false adoration and pure hope.

"Did you know that everyone's teeth leaves a _different_ impression when they bite something?"

 _What in the actual fuck…._?

"And James," Helga said, drawing out his name to make absolutely _sure_ Wolfgang knew what was about to happen.

"Has an overbite, which is why his two very front teeth," She rapped the indent that was further out and more spaced than the others. "Are out further than the rest."

Helga pulled away, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the metal chair. Her lips curled into a smirk as she raised her eyebrow in challenge.

Too bad Wolfgang didn't know when to _stop talking._

"So?" He bit back, leaning back and crossing his arms across his broad chest. He knew Helga knew his game-he had played it with her for _two_ _years_.

She wasn't stupid, not by a long shot and that's what had originally pulled him to her in the first place. That was until she opened her mouth and started forming opinions.

That's why Wolfgang had cheated; because he needed a woman who knew her place. And that place is _always_ in the kitchen or on her knees. Some girls _knew_ their place, others had to be _taught_.

"So," Helga hummed, the corners of her lips curling into a victorious smile. "If you weren't there, _why_ do your bruise match James' injuries?"

She couldn't keep the smug tone out of her voice. She finally had the upper hand and was going to enjoy watching Wolfgang's whole universe _unravel_.

"Because when you _hit_ something," Wolfgang smiled, a new plan quickly formulating in his head. If Helga wouldn't testify for him, he could get one of his many _other_ girls to.

"It leaves a _mark_ , no matter _what_ it is. I punched a wall, you can go to the house and _see exactly_ where it is."

Helga knew what mark he was talking about. It was the fight from the night they broke up. If it had been just an _inch_ to the right, it would have killed her. He leaned back, smirking-basking in his victory.

 _I win._

Helga smirked, pushing away from the table as she leaned close to Wolfgang, her eyes shining with mischief and something else that he couldn't place.

"When someone goes to the hospital," she said, leaning extremely close until her nose was just inches from his. "They take pictures, do test, ask questions. And whose _saliva_ do you think will show up on that test?

Whose _fingerprints_ will show up against his neck, wrist, etc?" Helga shrugged casually, leaning back and smiling at the gears grinding in Wolfgang's head.

He could put his finger through the holes she was forming in his alibi, the paper and words tearing at the seams.

 _Checkmate._

"You are pathetic and disgusting and I hope you get everything that's coming to you. And more."

Helga pushed in her seat, letting the legs scrape painfully across the floor, watching him flinch in pain before leaning against the curve of the back of the chair.

"I hope and pray the jury takes one look at your sorry ass and finds you guilty, right then and there. Because what you did, the life you almost took is more than enough reason for you to rot behind bars."

She started walking to the door when his voice, smug and echoing around the room made her stop dead in her tracks. "No death penalty?"

Helga turned around, stuffing her hands in her pocket.

"You don't deserve _death._ You deserve to watch the world continue on, your family, the girls who you think will _wait for you,_ everyone you ever love move on with their lives while you're _stuck._ Never moving forward.

And if by _some_ _miracle_ , you don't get found guilty, I don't take lightly to my _friends_ being in _danger_. That, is not a threat. It's a reminder of the person you _made_ _me_ _become_. I hope you rot in hell, Wolfgang."

Helga turned to knock on the door once, the heavy metal swinging open seconds later; Helga letting it slam shut behind her-not _once_ looking back.

* * *

Happy November!

When I wrote Wolfgang and Helga's interaction, I wanted the readers to feel disgust towards him and his character. I wanted his inner dialogue to portray his character and to make him hard, if not impossible for readers to like. I don't believe, at all, that a woman's place, or any person's place is anywhere _**BUT** _where they want to be. I was hesitant to write that line as I don't want you all to think that reflects my thoughts or who I am as a person.

Because it's not.

A HUMONGOUS THANK YOU to Writer25 and HappyLittlePsycopath for reading THREE DIFFERENT edits of this chapter and continuously bouncing ideas with me to keep this story interesting but true to the characters and their personalities.

Since this is my first post in November, I would like to share something I'm grateful for.

I'm grateful for the community and people who only build other writer's up; either with encouraging advice, support, or sending good vibes when their day has been particularly rough. I'm so extremely grateful that you all stick around through my ups, downs, and writer's block and are so understanding and supportive and encouraging. I wouldn't be able to write 16 (two of which aren't even chapters) and continue on.

As always, a huge thank you to everyone who has read, commented, favorited, and followed this story- you guys don't know how much it means to me to read them!

Be kind, live in the moment, and stand up for what you believe in- be Helga to all the Wolfgang's in the world. You are **strong**. You are **unstoppable**. And you are **loved**!

Until next time!


	19. Chapter 19

_Baby, I_ _ **need**_ _you._

Helga's hands clenched into tight fists, shaking violently with disgust. The sudden intrusion of Wolfgang's sleazy voice and cheap words echoed mockingly around her head, growing louder and louder.

Even when he held no _control_ over her or her life, he still managed to find little ways to inject himself into her most personal of thoughts or moments.

Anger bubbled in the lower pit of her stomach as she squeezed her fists tighter, digging her fingernails sharply into the skin of her palms, trying to distract herself from how real and _close_ his voice sounded.

If Helga hadn't _just_ seen him in the concrete room behind her, handcuffed to the heavy metal table, she would have thought he was standing directly behind her.

A intense pain shot through her hands, spreading down her fingers just as hot and quickly as a forest on fire. She gasped in surprise, opening her hands and turning them over to look at the fresh, bloody, crescent shaped wounds carved neatly into the rough skin of her palms.

" _Fuck_ ," she sneered, angry at herself for letting him get to her in the first place. She'd mostly forgotten about him and his games, that was until he decided to fucking crash land back in her life, in true Wolfgang style.

Helga dropped her hands back down to her sides, physically repulsed by the wounds and who had caused them. She squeezed her hands into fists again, the pain from re-opening the tender skin making her forget for just a moment about Wolfgang, James and this whole mess.

No, Wolfgang didn't _need_ her. He _needed_ the euphoric high of having power and control; over her, the people in his life, and more importantly _, this situation_.

He always had to have the upper hand, and when he didn't, he would get extremely violent and unpredictable.

 _Just like his father._

As if to prove a point, the heavy metal door vibrated violently against her back, a harsh clinking sound echoing around the small hallway as something hard and metal collided with the door from the other side.

She held her breath, waiting to see if Wolfgang had managed to escape the handcuffs and would start pounding on the door, demanding to see her. But everything went eerily silent.

Helga assumed he had thrown the metal chair in a sudden fit of rage, something that no longer became sudden when it was happened every other evening. Sometimes more than once.

She had learned to expect it in their relationship, pleasantly surprised when he didn't stumble around the living room in a fit of rage, yelling at the top of his lungs while throwing things against the wall just inches from her head.

Even without closing her eyes, Helga could imagine him leaning heavily over the metal table, chest heaving as a look of murder mixed with anger and revenge blazed in his dark eyes.

She pushed off the door, moving across the small hallway to lean against the opposite grey concrete wall. She crossed her arms tightly over the chest of her shirt, her fingers digging into the skin of her upper arms as she silently dared Wolfgang to _come get her._

 _I miss you; I miss us. We were good together, we were right._

Helga's body jerked violently, as if physically trying to pull away from his voice and words. She shook her head, physically and mentally revolted by the idea that they could ever be _right_.

 _But at one point, even for a short period of time, you did think you could potentially fall in love with…._ _ **him**_ _. If he is a monster, what does that make you for thinking you could love him?_

Sometimes she _really_ hated how the mocking voice in the back of her head never had an issue with bringing up her insecurities and the past. Sometimes it sounded eerily like her father, other times, it was unrecognizable.

Helga thought back to when Wolfgang would smile, his thin lips curling back to proudly show off his yellow stained, unkempt teeth- almost as if they were a trophy. The glint in his eye, the one she, at one point, mistook for unconditional love, she now realized was excitement from power and control.

 _You have to_ _ **believe me.**_

She suddenly felt extremely dizzy, her hands reaching back to rest her palms against the concrete wall for support as the small hallway started spinning. The colors of the wall, door, lights, and linoleum floor blurring together.

 _What was happening? Was she dying? Having a heart attack?_

Helga tried to call for help, her tongue feeling thick, heavy and too big for her mouth. Her words and voice sounded muffled, like she was trying to scream while underwater.

She slid down the wall, hands pressed firmly over her ears as she tried to make the pounding and dizziness stop. She opened her mouth to call for help, her chest feeling like two large hands were wrapped tightly around her lungs, squeezing out every last drop of air.

Helga let out a strangled gasp, frantically grabbing at the collar of her shirt and pulling, hoping to stop some of the tightening feeling around her neck and let air in her desperate, screaming lungs.

Panic flooded her body, like ice water shooting through her veins as black crept around the edges of her vision.

 _This is how I'm going to die. In a Police Station hallway with my monster of an ex in the room across from me. Fucking awesome._

"Drink," Officer Michaels said, his voice cutting through the panic, although his voice still sounding muffled. His right hand held an outstretched styrofoam cup full of water.

"How much did you…." Helga asked, her voice hesitant and low as her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. She was a _**Pataki**_. Patakis don't have breakdowns, or whatever the hell just happened in the middle of the hallway.

Michaels shrugged, staying silent as he moved the cup to be directly in her eyesight, jerking it forward slightly in urge for her to take it. He had a teen daughter, he knew how these things worked.

When she was ready to talk, she'd talk. He wasn't going to push her to talk; she'd had enough shit to deal with for the night.

"Thank you," Helga smiled, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. She wrapped both hands tightly around the cup, trying to figure out if she should apologize or ask what was next with Wolfgang and James.

" _Drink_ ," Michaels repeated, his voice calm but with an undertone of authority as he nodded down to the cup in-between her hands. He watched her take a slow, long sip before turning to walk across the hall, giving her space.

He stopped in front of the two-way mirror, looking at a very disgruntled looking Wolfgang. He scanned the small room, noticing the metal chair, currently upside down against the heavy metal door.

Michaels figured that was the loud clinking and crashing noise he had heard from his officer earlier. He sighed, accepting that tonight was going to be a never-ending night.

He ran his right hand through his auburn hair before crossing his arms tightly over the chest of his uniform, turning to face Helga.

"What happ…."

"How are you feeling?" Michaels interrupted, leaning back to sit against the small ledge of the mirror as he watched Helga look down at her cup in embarrassment. They sat in silence for a few second, Helga sighing before realizing that Michaels wasn't going to drop the question. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the concrete wall.

"How is one supposed to feel?" Helga asked, her words feeling sluggish and heavy. She paused, opening her eyes as she set the cup down on the floor to her right.

She was trying to figure out how to explain that she was _tired_. That she was angry at herself for being and feeling _weak_ and _exhausted_ at feeling angry. She was allowed to have normal emotions and feel tired.

Helga was strong, but she was only human and she was tired.

Michaels took a moment to sneak a glance behind him at Wolfgang, jolting slightly when he met dark, angry eyes staring hard at him through the mirror.

"He knows," Helga said, moving quietly to stand next to Michaels while wrapping her arms tightly around her body. It wasn't a question, but it didn't need to be.

"He _knows_ I'm in the hallway."

They jolted in disgust as Wolfgang's lips curled into a vile, malicious smirk, moving his head to look at Helga instead of Officer Michaels.

"It would seem so," Michaels nodded, turning his back on Wolfgang, facing the wall.

"But back to you. How do _you_ feel?"

Helga took a second to think, still staring at Wolfgang, even as she began to speak. It was like she was talking to him and not Officer Michaels. Her voice was low with a mix of confusion, anger and exhaustion.

"How is one _supposed_ to feel when they find out the person they dated, was actually a monster?That they turned out to be exactly the same monster as their parents?

Am I supposed to feel relieved? Disgusted? Terrified? All of the above? None of the above?"

She hesitated, looking like she wanted say more but couldn't find the right words. She sighed, still staring at Wolfgang through the mirror.

Michaels nodded, understanding that she was exhausted. He pushed off the small ledge, patting Helga's shoulder to get her to physically turn her away from Wolfgang and look at him.

"Let's take you back to your friends. They must be worried sick."

* * *

Helga didn't know _what_ to expect when Michaels lead her down the hallway, back to the room her friends had been trapped in for the majority of the night.

Her hand paused on the doorknob, her lips curling into a smile as she listened to hushed whispers and conversations. She took a deep breath, twisting the knob as Officer Michaels waited back in the hallway, giving her time and privacy to be surrounded by people who loved and supported her unconditionally.

The room fell silent as the doorknob gently hit the wall, everyone still standing or sitting where she left them, some grouped together while others were off with their significant others.

Their eyes all turned towards her, their faces filled with silent questions as nobody dared moved first. She was about to say something, to break the ice with a joke or sarcastic comment when Phoebe's small body collided with hers, almost knocking her to the ground.

Phoebe's arms wrapped tightly around the blonde, squeezing as she closed her eyes and dug her face further into her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" the raven haired girl whispered, releasing of sigh of relief as she felt Helga nod against her, arms wrapping just as tightly around her small, petite frame. Both girls felt the pain, anger and exhaustion of the night disappear as they melted into each other's embrace.

"I'm okay," Helga repeated, closing her eyes as she felt more bodies wrap around hers and Phoebes. She suddenly felt a surge of pride as she was reminded that she had something that Wolfgang didn't.

Friends who loved her unconditionally. And she was extremely grateful.

* * *

"Pheebs," Helga called, reaching out a hand to stop her, before letting it run through her hair to make it look casual. She kept her voice low and face void of emotion as she watched her friends shuffle exhaustedly out of the room and into the hallway.

Phoebe turned to look at her, still holding hands with her finacé, and it made Helga feel suddenly guilty for taking away more time.

She was about to say not to worry about it, but the look on Phoebe's face immediately told her she already knew why Helga had called her name.

Gerald looked at Helga, smiling slightly before leaning down to kiss Phoebe on the top of her head, squeezing her hands as he turned to follow Eugene into the hall. He closed the door slightly behind him, leaving it open just a crack so it didn't lock.

"How are you feeling?" Phoebe asked, watching as Helga leaned heavily against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, her knees pulling into her chest.

"I'm…."

"How are you _really_ feeling?" Phoebe interrupted, moving to sit next to Helga, their shoulders touching slightly.

"I'm exhausted, Pheebs," Helga sighed, her words coming out like the confession of a sinner. "I'm so tired and angry at feeling like this."

"Feeling like _what_ , exactly ?" Phoebe pushed, letting her legs spread out in front of her, crossing her ankles elegantly. She let her hands fall into her lap, ready to hug Helga if needed or to give her space.

"Weak," Helga mumbled, leaning her head back, feeling a familiar stinging feeling in her nose and at the corner of her eyes.

"I _need_ to be strong, for James and myself and all of you, but earlier tonight, I think I had a panic attack. Or some kind of breakdown. I felt like I was drowning and….I'm trying so hard to maintain strong but I feel like I'….."

"Like you're failing James and all of us," Phoebe finished, nodding her hand in understanding. She had no clue what or how Helga was feeling. How much stress and anxiety this whole mess caused.

"I'm just so tired," Helga nodded, leaning her head to rest on Phoebe's right shoulder, her voice and words becoming airy as she tried to swallow her hiccups and sobs.

"Then be tired," Phoebe said, her gentle voice getting drowned out by strangled gasps, and a few hiccups.

"None of us thinks you're weak or failing us. We're all so extremely blessed to have you so fiercely by our sides and we're all so proud of you and James for overcoming this situation and whatever other hell you had tonight.

We were all worried sick about you when the hours ticked past. Arnold wouldn't say anything, just staring at the door like he could make you magically appear. Don't you dare, for even a second, think you're failing us. You could not be more wrong."

Phoebe's hand rubbed soothing patterns against Helga's wrist, her eyes closed to give Helga privacy but still let her know she was there.


	20. Chapter 20

Exhaustion.

The depressive and heavy emotion finally caught up with Helga, colliding into her at full force before promptly spreading through her body like wildfire to dead grass. Settling untouchably deep into her bones and muscles.

Her mind and body felt drained of all energy, like she had been moving non-stop for _days_ and was just _now_ hitting the wall. She sighed, her eyes closing involuntarily as the sigh quickly turned into a yawn, her right hand immediately lifting to hide the action.

Helga shifted, feeling extremely stiff as she quickly realized that the angle she was hunched over in to lean against Phoebe's shoulder was immensely uncomfortable. She stretched, moving to sit upright and reach both arms high above her head to relieve some discomfort in her shoulders, neck, and lower back.

She put both hands flat behind her, stretching behind her enough to hear the satisfying popping noise of air being released from her spine, before moving to adjust herself comfortably against the wall. She angled her body slightly to the left so she could easily rest her head against Phoebe's right shoulder without discomfort.

The two best friends sat in silence, neither feeling the need or having the energy to fill it with superficial words. They both just enjoyed the feeling of each other's presence and calm of not having to immediately worry about the overwhelmingly tense feeling of "what happens next?".

Helga used the time of silence to reflect, thinking back to the last half an hour of crying, actually _bawling_ might be a more accurate description, on all of the emotions and events from the last few months. Everything mixed together with tonight's news and seeing Wolfgang again caused the emotions she had bottled up to explode like a shaken soda.

She sighed, an action she seemed to be doing a lot of tonight, and moved her head slightly to be able to look down at Phoebe's left thumb rubbing soothing, light patterns against the inside of her right wrist. She smiled, feeling extremely grateful and slightly embarrassed that Phoebe had seen her cry.

Though Phoebe hadn't seen her just _cry_ ; it was the type that left your eyes feeling puffy, red, and sore to even the lightest of touch. The kind of crying where it felt like your breathing is coming out in strangled gasps and you feel like you're suffocating.

Helga shook her head, looking down once more to notice Phoebe's movements had become more and more sluggish.

Phoebe was tired.

Everyone was tired.

Honestly, Helga just wanted to go home and take a shower. To stand under the scalding hot spray of water and let it relax her brain and muscles as shuffled music played through her speaker. To wrap herself in that familiar, over sized flannel that she loved to sleep in, the one Arnold had leant her over a year ago after a rainstorm that she kept "forgetting' to give back.

To fall into her bed and pretend like this whole disastrous night-no, these few disastrous months were just a recurring nightmare made up by her bored subconscious and overactive brain.

But this wasn't _just_ a nightmare and Helga couldn't _just_ fall back asleep like it was one. This was her new reality. She knew that the minute she closed her eyes, she'd see Wolfgang's dark, sinister eyes and yellow teeth smirking back at her.

She would see James' bruised face in the hospital bed and hear Wolfgang's cruel, low voice from a shadow over her right shoulder. She didn't want to be alone with her taunting mind and thoughts, not until she had a way to handle them or either be so exhausted that she fell asleep the minute she hit her pillow.

Whichever one happened first.

Helga hated the fact that her body and mind seemed to constantly be at war with each other, always trying to one up the other with no terms of surrender or peace anytime soon. Maybe there never would be peace and something new would always take the victor's place.

"Pheebs?" she whispered, pulling her head back from the raven haired girl's shoulder, turning to look into her chocolate brown eyes, immediately seeing them cloud with worry and exhaustion.

"Hmmm?" Phoebe hummed, trying to appear casual while her mind instantly prepared itself to be either comfort or to give her space. Whatever she needed.

Helga paused, studying Phoebe and immediately feeling angry at herself for how on edge her best friend looked; like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop and to hear news that would rock the boat, possibly tipping the whole damn thing overboard.

"Thank you," she said, pulling the raven haired girl into a tight, demanding hug. Letting her know everything she was feeling and thinking in such a simple gesture. "So much. For _everything_."

Helga whispered the last part into Phoebe's shoulder, the words becoming muffled as Phoebe pulled her closer and squeezed her even tighter, wrapping her arms around Helga's neck.

For the first time that evening, they both allowed themselves to fully relax.

* * *

The group of friends stood in a silent and anxious half circle outside of the police station, huddling together for warmth while pretending _not_ to be watching the door for Helga and Phoebe. Lila, Nadine, Rhonda, Patty, and Sheena had their heads resting against their boyfriends shoulders, the guys' arms wrapped protectively around their waist, pulling them closer to their sides.

Arnold stood at the left end of the half-circle, angled so he could still be a part of conversations but not bothering to try and hide the fact that he was watching the front door. His unruly blonde hair stood at a weird angle from all the times he'd run his right hand anxiously through it.

He lifted his hand when Gerald, who was pacing next to Arnold, grabbed it and pushed it back to his side. He was having even more of a difficult time time staying calm than Arnold.

"Stop that," Gerald sighed, looking down to check his watch before pulling out his phone. _Maybe she had sent a text or something._ He pressed the button on the side of the phone, his lock screen picture popping up with no notifications.

He looked at the lock screen, the picture was of himself and Phoebe mere moments after he proposed and she had said yes.

Phoebe had her head buried into his chest, her left hand pressed flat against Gerald's red sweater to show off her new, modest ring. He was looking down at her, his lips in a huge smile, the skin by his eyes crinkling as his right arm instantly wrapped around her waist.

Gerald looked over at Arnold, hoping that the blonde man finds the love and respect that he has with Phoebe. _Hopefully_ with Helga so the blondes get the ending and love that they deserved.

* * *

Nobody knew what to expect when Helga and Phoebe opened the doors and walked down the concrete steps. Only Gerald had known that Helga had asked Phoebe to stay behind, but he never expected it would have taken this long.

His imagination had been running wild with thoughts of something happening. That maybe Wolfgang had escaped from his handcuffs and was now searching the many rooms for Helga. Finding Phoebe in the process.

Maybe….

Phoebe's hand resting on Gerald's forearm immediately pulled him out of his thoughts, silencing every little worry. He smiled, grateful for her calming and loving effect as he pulled his arm out of her grasp and wrapped it tightly around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer to him.

She, much like everyone else, just wanted to go home and lock Gerald in the bedroom for the rest of the weekend, but that itself posed a another issue. How was everyone _getting back_ to their respective homes?

Phoebe looked at Eugene and then over to Helga, who was standing quietly next to Arnold. She then looked around the small half-circle, noticing that everyone was extremely quiet but questioningly looking around.

See, this whole issue could have been easily avoided if they all had all driven their own cars down to the station, but between getting the call, the frenzy of whether or not to call Arnold, and heading down to the station, they all decided it was probably best to carpool in Lila's red SUV.

Lila didn't hesitate to agree, but looking over at her now leaning heavily against Stinky's right shoulder, her body limp with exhaustion, Phoebe guessed that she, like everyone else, just wanted to go home and _not_ drive 15 minutes in the _opposite_ direction.

As if reading Phoebe's mind, Lila looked up to meet her gaze, nodding slightly, she smiled tiredly. She would open the can of potential worms. "How are we going to get everyone getting home?"

Everyone stood in silence, nobody saying the only answer that everybody knew.

Someone was going to have to walk. Either home or back to Helga/Eugene's apartment.

There just wasn't enough room to fit everybody into Lila's SUV and nobody wanted to put Lila, and her perfect driving record, in more danger driving back. The group had barely fit on the way down and Stinky had to calm Lila during a few panicky moments while passing two different police cars.

The silence and shifting eyes was making Helga uncomfortable, her arms rubbing the skin of her exposed arms as she suddenly became very aware of the harsh wind. She wish she had remembered to grab her jacket as she could already feel goosebumps starting to appear along her arm.

She sighed, mentally and physically preparing herself to step in and tell the group that she was already planning on walking anyway, and for the argument with Phoebe that would follow, when a piece of thick fabric dropped loosely onto her shoulders, momentarily distracting her.

Helga jolted in surprise, her hands instantly reaching up to grip and rub the edges of the fabric she quickly recognized as Arnold's red and black flannel. The one he had been wearing all night.

She continued to rub the worn, familiar fabric between her thumb and middle finger as she braved a look at Arnold through her peripheral vision, feeling only slightly disappointed that wasn't looking at her, but looking down at his black Vans, his hands deep in the pocket of his jeans.

Helga knew he could see her out of his peripheral and it made her lips curl into a slight smile. She quickly slipped her arms into his long sleeves, rolling them up a few times so they stopped just above her wrist before pulling the edges to overlap across the front of her body.

She noticed Arnold looking at her, his eyes shining with something she couldn't recognize as his teeth bit his bottom lip. He looked away as he ran his right hand through his blonde hair.

"I was actually going to walk back," Helga said to the group, making her voice strong. herself as She could tell everyone was too exhausted to want to argue with her but nobody thought her idea was a _good one._

She could tell from the mixture of worried and confused looks on everyone's faces that she would need to give a damn good reason as to _why_ she wanted to _walk_ , but before she could say anything she felt Phoebe's hand on her forearm.

"It's well past," Phoebe stopped talking, looking tiredly, down at her wrist to check her watch for the time. She groaned. "2 AM and it's dark and cold and…."

She paused, noticing the increasingly embarrassed look growing in Helga's eyes and the way she was fidgeting uncomfortably.

Phoebe immediately understood and sighed, running her fingers through her short black hair.

"But you need this, don't you."

It wasn't a question because Phoebe _already_ knew the answer. Helga just nodded, once again extremely grateful for Phoebe and her ability to understand just what she needed without having to physically say it.

Helga reached over to pull her into a hug, whispering another thank you into her ear before turned towards Arnold.

They really needed to talk.

"Would you mind walking with me?" She asked, her voice hesitant and tired, but playful. She watched as he paused, seeing the gears in his head turning. She knew he was making a pro and con list, trying to stay true to his words of giving her space.

Helga knew the cons would outweigh the pros so she quickly added, "unless you're too tired or just want to go home and study, or sleep." There, she gave him an out so he wasn't stuck. She waited for a few seconds, smiling as his lips curled into a smile and he gave her a small nod.

Arnold already knew that Phoebe didn't think this was a good idea, but she had asked him and he would have been worried about her getting home safely anyway. Also, there is no way he would have been able to sleep or study until she was home.

Helga noticed Phoebe about to give her a speech and thought it was best to get going. Everyone was exhausted and the night had dragged on for longer than anyone had anticipated.

"Thank you all, so much for being here for me tonight," she said, feeling like she was giving an acceptance speech after winning an award. And maybe she did win, not an award but _something_. "I can't imagine going through what happened tonight alone and how painful it would have been. So, thank you."

Helga wasn't prepared for the group hug that enveloped her, but she allowed their arms to linger longer than she normally would have. She smiled as she pulled away, giving Arnold a quick nod of the head before she started walking.

* * *

The two blondes walked in silence, Arnold deep in thought about why she had asked him to go with her instead of Eugene or Phoebe or Lila. Or any other person in the group. Sure, he could protect her if something went awry, but she was Helga Pataki and could very often defend herself.

He snuck a glance at the blonde woman to his right, looking extremely cute as she kept huddled in his shirt while she either stared straight ahead or down at the sidewalk. He realized there was another time she had worn his flannel but couldn't remember when, or if he'd even gotten that flannel back, or if that was even an accurate memory.

Arnold kept his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, trying to keep warm as they continued walking. He noticed she wasn't in any rush to get back to her apartment and he wasn't in any rush to end this night.

He yawned, covering it with his hand before running his right hand through his unruly blonde hair before stuffing it back into the pocket of his jeans. He was extremely grateful tomorrow, er, later today was Sunday and he could sleep in.

He was mentally preparing for a long, quiet walk when she started talking, her voice low and filled with exhaustion.

"Thank you," Helga said, looking over at him and smiling, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear. "For everything. For coming down to the station, for your flannel, for walking with me even though you're probably exhausted."

Arnold laughed, although it came out breathier than he wanted. The edge of his lips curled into a smile as he glanced sideways at the blonde woman.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner," Arnold answered, pausing as he noticed Helga's face scrunch up for a second. He thought to change the subject to something a bit lighter.

"Do you think you're ready for the exam on Monday?" He kept his voice playful, teasing as he knew she was more ready than he was. She was usually the one to help him study.

"Ready to kick your butt?" Helga offered, smiling big as she glanced over at him. "Always."

And for a moment, everything felt normal between the two blondes. They were playfully bantering like they have all their lives. She was back to her sassy and confident usual self. He wanted to keep this conversation going, but she beat him to it.

"I haven't given up," Helga said, sighing as she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look up at the clear night sky. "I want this to work, for us to work. I just need to work on myself first."

She sounded so sad and it took everything in Arnold not to reach out, wrap his arms around her waist and pull her to him. He took a deep breath, also looking up at the sky.

"Neither have I," he said, almost like a whisper as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. He really needed to shave.

"I miss you," Helga said, her voice somewhere between a whisper and a hum. Barely audible but he heard it, and he couldn't help the small smile that reached his lips. His fingernails dug into the palm of his skin in his pockets, still refusing to touch her unless she made the first move.

She took a step closer, her baby blue eyes gazing intently into his emerald greens. "And I wish this didn't have to happen like this, and I know this will sound weird, but I'm grateful."

Arnold held his breath before taking a hesitant step forward, unsure if this is a dream and he would wake up in his bedroom, or possibly in the living room surrounded by his notes and books with Phoebe and Gerald already in bed.

"Grateful?" Arnold whispered, his eyes flickered down to her lips teasing him with an intoxicatingly inviting shine of lip gloss. He wanted to start over.

"I know it sounds weird, but hear me out." Helga sighed, trying to figure out how to make her thoughts come out in the right words. She just had to go for it, lay it all out there and hope for the best. "If none of this happened now, with us, with James and Drake, Wolfgang; it would have happened with something else eventually.

Something would have happened that would have made us, our relationship toxic because that's who we are. Right now. We need to better figure out who we are, separately before we can start to figure out who we could be together."

Helga took another step forward, leaving only a few inches between the blondes. She reached out, hesitantly resting the palm of her right hand against his cold, dry cheek. Arnold immediately leaned into it, a feeling of sadness washing over him as the warm feeling of her palm was gone all too soon.

"I want that too," he said, his voice low and sincere and nervous and hesitant. He swallowed before continuing. "To figure out who we could be together. I want to fall more in love with you, to have a future, all the arguments, highs and lows and every moment in-between."

"Wait," Helga whispered, her voice hopeful but guarded. "More in love? You love me?"

Arnold bit his tongue, looking up at the clear night sky as he raked his right hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before looking at Helga and answering slowly.

"Yes. I do. But, this isn't the time for that. I want to start over, have a clean slate where we're not playing these games and tell you properly when the time is actually right. When we're not toxic and there isn't other things happening. When it can be just about us."

Arnold smiled before holding out his right hand.

"So hi, I'm Arnold Shortman."

Helga stared at him for a second, her mouth slightly open before she laughed, her head tilting back, her right arm tightly holding her stomach and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She shook her head as she held out her left hand, meeting him the rest of the way as she shook it, still laughing.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Helga."

* * *

Hi,

Okay, so, completely ignoring the fact that is has been a solid month and 17 days since I posted, here's a new chapter! I am really sorry about the delay in writing, a lot has changed and happened and I just couldn't keep up. I've had this chapter half written for a few weeks now and I just got around to finishing, editing, and re-editing.

I also didn't get to have as many proof readers as I would have liked, so I apologize for that!

To those who celebrate, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New Years. We've been getting a lot of snow and ice and I'm slightly over winter!

I'll hope to get another chapter written and out soon! But, thank you to those who have stuck beside me through all the chapters, author's notes, and months of delay! You all are amazing!

Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, liked, favorited, and followed this story and myself as an author, I appreciate it!

Until next time!


	21. Chapter 21

_Just_ _ **text**_ _her_.

Arnold sighs heavily, biting his bottom lip as he stares down at his phone resting against the harsh fabric of his jeans. Gerald had long since stopped replying, as he was currently out with Phoebe and probably extremely annoyed with the lack of progress from the blonde.

He runs a tired hand down his face, glancing down at the dark screen and catching a glimpse of himself as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his thighs.

His hair looks like he's just awoken from a restless night's sleep, standing straight up and going in all directions. A consequence of continuously running his fingers through his hair for the last _hour and a half_.

He bites his bottom lip, immediately flinching from the soft skin becoming raw and sore from being gnawed at. His emerald eyes looked duller than usual and his forehead seems to have permanent worry lines.

All in all, it looked like he had not slept for days and was on the verge of some sort of breakdown, which he guess had some accuracy to it.

Arnold groans, dropping his phone onto the glass coffee table, face down, before slumping against the couch, letting his head fall back with a satisfying thud.

 _Stop overthinking this. Just text her_.

He couldn't help thinking that his inner voice sounded very similar to Gerald, but with an undertone of agitation, exhaustion, and wanting to strangle the blonde man.

He almost laughed, feeling his lips curl into a small smile as he shook his head, leaning forward again to glare intently at his phone.

 _Just_ _ **do it**_. _What if she says_ _ **yes**_ _?_

Before Arnold could overthink or make an excuse, he grabbed his phone, pressing the power button so the lock screen picture appeared.

He instantly smiled, brighter and bigger than was necessary. The picture was of himself and Helga at the Hillwood Cheese Festival from a year ago. They were standing next to each other, his arm wrapped tightly, almost protectively around her waist.

Their smiles were all teeth, looking too big for their faces as they animatedly pointed up to their respective cheese hats.

It was, hands down, Arnold's favorite Cheese Festival to date. If asked, his answer was always, in slight dramatic fashion, "because it's the _Cheese Festival_. How could one _not_ like the various amounts of cheese and cheesy carnival games?"

But in reality, it was because he finally got Helga to ride the _Tunnel of Love_ with him and because he almost kissed her at the end of the night.

He remembers that moment excruciatingly clearly. She was walking beside him, babbling animatedly about some carnie who she _swears_ rigged the ping-pong game, when the sun was just starting to set.

It was casting a reddish-orange tint on everything, even her blonde hair and skin. It almost made her look like she had an ombré tint. He remembers not looking at her, laughing as he shook his head, "whatever you say, Helga" on his lips.

He looked over, his mind lapsing for a second before he froze, his mouth suddenly dry. She had her hair in a side fishtail, pink bow securely holding the end, with her cheese hat proudly on her head.

Helga had looked slightly ridiculous, but he couldn't help thinking she looked absolutely perfect in that moment. She had stopped a few feet in front of him, turning around to see why he had stopped in the first place when he felt an urge to lean forward.

So Arnold did, only to stop when he saw her surprised look, which he mistook for terror, and immediately backed off. He mumbled something about "heat of the moment" and "heat stroke" before walking silently to the car.

The car ride home was spent in silence and the two blondes spend the remainder of the evening and night in their respective rooms. The next day, he pretended it didn't happen and she followed suit.

God, he was _dense_. He thought back to when Gerald had said that he thought something has _always_ been there, a _bond_ that he didn't have with any other girl. Both in the group or in past girlfriends, and he was right.

It just took Arnold majorly messing up, toxicity between the two blondes, and thinking he almost lost her to realize that.

He shook his head, not wanting to think about that right now, as he pressed his thumb to the home button, instantly unlocking his phone.

He pressed the message icon in the dock of his home screen, immediately having it open to the draft he had started over an hour ago.

 **A: Hey, you free tonight?**

Arnold wrinkled his nose at how _forward_ that sounded, hitting cancel to delete the whole message before his screen went back to the main message screen.

He looked at his messages, staring at Gerald's name in bold at the very top. He read the brief previews of his last text sent to him, thinking back to their short conversation.

 **A: I've been staring at this screen for the last hour. I don't want to come off as too forward, but I also want to be subtle. Help.**

 **G: I….I need more context than that, man. Even Phoebe can't help with just that information alone. And she's a genius.**

 **A: Ha. Ha. I'm thinking of texting Helga and ask her to see the new** _ **Evil Twin**_ **movie with me tonight. But I don't know if she's seen it already or if she'll even want to or what to say. So. Once again. Help.**

 **G: Just ask her, man. You both have had enough of these games and so have we. It's best to just ask her and take her answer at face value. She's honest. If she doesn't want to go, she'll say no-no matter how subtle you are.**

 **A: Seriously? That's your advice? Just ask her?**

 **G: Yup, now I'm going to go back to enjoying my date. If you're still having issues when we come back, my advice will still be the same but I'll be able to tell you face to face. Good luck man.**

 **A: Some friend.**

Arnold sighed heavily, realizing once again that Gerald had a point. He _was_ overthinking this and ultimately making this more difficult for himself.

He started a new message, skipping the name and immediately started typing before losing his confidence.

 **A: Hey, are you busy?**

There. Short and to the point. Helga could look at the message on her lock screen and, without opening it, decide if a reply was worth her time. She was a very outspoken individual, if she didn't want to go, she would say so.

He typed Helga's name in **To:** before quickly hitting the blue arrow button, the blue send line and the whoosh sound finalizing his decision.

Arnold stared at the new message, the damning word _delivered_ appearing under his short blue message. He tried to relax, or _appear_ relaxed by throwing his phone face down on the couch cushion beside him.

He didn't want to just sit around and wait for a reply, it could be _hours_ or she could choose not to reply at all. He had a Anthropology research paper he _should_ be working on or laundry he _could_ be doing.

There was actually a long list of things he should or could be doing, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to focus on any of them.

Arnold sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he wrinkled his nose and wished he didn't feel like a middle schooler, texting a pretty girl that he _like-liked_ her with his flip phone and braces.

He reached for the remote on the coffee table, deciding to watch some mindless TV when his phone dinged. He forced himself to count to five, thinking it could be _anybody_ that needed or wanted his attention.

His pulse skyrocketed as he turned over his phone and looking at his lock screen notifications.

 **Helga Pataki: New iMessage.**

He quickly and shakily held his thumb to the home button, the phone buzzing as it disliked how sweaty his skin had gotten and refused entry.

Arnold got frustrated and had to manually type in his password, making a mental note to disable his fingerprint later.

He clicked on the message icon, a red number one in the upper right corner as he opened her new message.

 **H: Now or today in general?**

 _That's not a no. Good start. Don't blow this, Shortman._

Arnold took a deep breath, typing out a response.

 **A: This evening, night in general.**

 _Creepy. Definitely too creeping sounding._

He deleted the message and typed something simpler.

 **A: In general.**

Arnold hit send, the _delivered_ message appearing before quickly being replaced by _read._ He didn't bother to even _pretend_ to be watching TV.

 **H: I'm currently working on a South Asian research paper, but I'm going to be done for the night in the next hour or so. The rest of the night doesn't have anything planned. What's up?**

 _How is she so casual sounding and I'm over here being a babbling mess?_

 **A: Wanted to see if you wanted to go to the new** _ **Evil Twin 38**_ **movie with me. Would ask Gerald, but he's currently out with Phoebe.**

He wanted to add _unless you've already seen it with Eugene_ , but he quickly decided against that and hit sent. No need to make ripples in calm water.

He watched as the _delivered_ message appeared under his blue message but it didn't immediately turn to _read_.

 _She's probably writing or didn't hear her phone. Give her time. She doesn't always have her phone in her hand or by it like you are._

He waited five minutes, eventually turning into ten before he started getting anxious. He stated backpedaling.

 **A: Unless that's uncomfortable, then we can totally invite other friends. Or we don't have to go at all. Or we could….**

Helga's reply interrupted his rambling text, luckily before he could hit send.

 **H: Sorry! Got on a roll with the paper and didn't want to lose my train of thought! That's so weird, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go see the movie-although you wouldn't be a replacement for Phoebe. How rude! ;) But yeah, I'd like that. What time were you thinking?**

 _Was she flirting? How do I handle this? Do I flirt back? Fuck._

He deleted his message, the continuous clicking noise somewhat calming, before typing out a message that he thought was a good balance between flirty and simple.

 _Gerald would be proud. Maybe._

 **A: Not replacing, just the better option of the two, hands down. And there's showings at 7:45, 8:10, 8:45, 9:15, 9:45, 10, 10:45, 11, and 11:30. What works best for you?**

Arnold held his breath as the typing bubbles popped up seconds later.

 **H: I'll tell Gerald you said that ;) Would 11:30 be too late? It's less likely the theater will be packed. Not in a people type of mood, today.**

Arnold looked at the time at the top of his phone; 5:30. He didn't _want_ to wait six hours before he got to see her, but she had agreed to the movie in the first place and he didn't want to push his luck and ruin that.

 _Or I'm going to try not to_.

 **A: Sounds good. Meet outside the South side of the theater at 11:15?**

He sighed, wondering how much of his research paper he could focus on for six hours when his phone dinged.

 **H: Could you actually pick me up? Don't feel like driving and it's too cold to walk. If not, I'll see if I can get Eugene to drop me off at the theater before he heads over to Tom's. I'll even buy popcorn.**

Arnold bit his lip to stop his wide smiling, ignoring the pain.

 **A: Sure thing. But no, popcorn and drinks are my treat. I'll be there at 10:45?**

 _Too early, you idiot. Now you just sound desperate._

He was about to write another text, correcting the time when she responded.

 **H: I'm at least getting drinks. Can't wait. See you then, Shortman ;)**

 _This woman will be the death of me_.

* * *

Hello Lovely People!

Quite a little cliff-hanger, hmmmm? I was debating between putting the next scene in, but I wanted to be able to elaborate more without making this chapter too full. I also like teasing and the next chapter is going to be extremely well...you'll just have to be patient.

What do you guys think about the idea of post something somewhere, on some sort of social media site, when I'm about to upload a new chapter? On both stories? Yay? Nah?

Thank you to all the new people who have liked, favorited, followed, and commented-I couldn't do this story without you!

See you soon!


	22. Chapter 22

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Nervous fingers drummed against the thick material of the gray steering wheel, off-beat to the low Duke Ellington song drifting lazily from the radio.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._

Arnold sighed, reaching up to pull down the sun visor, the small light dimly illuminating his reflection as he wrinkled his nose in distaste. His slicked back hair resembling John Travolta's character Danny Zuko from the movie _Grease._

 _I look like a complete tool._

He snapped the sun visor closed in annoyance, lifting his right hand to run it through his hair a couple of times before ruffling it slightly. He quickly glanced at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, deeming it presentable and "unruly as usual".

 _Good._

Arnold's eyes flickered up to the light, making sure it was still red before turning his focus to the radio. He turned the volume up slightly to check the current song before pressing the number one preset.

He quickly recognized the guitar intro to _Mr. Brightside,_ immediately turning up the volume more so he could sing along to the first few lines.

 _Coming out of my cage_

 _And I've been doing just fine_

 _Gotta be down_

 _Because I want it all_

 _It started out with a kiss_

 _How did it end up like this?_

 _It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss_

Feeling a little more relaxed, Arnold closed his eyes, singing louder as he dropped his right hand to the lower part of the steering wheel, now completely caught up in the song.

 _Now I'm falling asleep_

 _And she's calling a cab_

 _While he's having a smoke_

 _And she's taking a drag_

 _Now they're going to bed_

 _And my stomach is sick_

 _And it's all in my head_

 _But she's touch…._

An aggressively long honk jolted him out of his reverie, his eyes flickering up to the now green traffic light. He quickly turned down the volume, lifting his right hand in the rear-view mirror as an offer of apology before realizing it was probably too dark and easing off the break.

After waiting for the aggressive honker, which happened to be a man in a very large truck, to pass him, his eyes flickered to look at the electric blue numbers on his radio; 10:30 PM.

He still had _fifteen_ minutes before he was to pick up Helga and he was only _five_ minutes away from her and Eugene's apartment.

His palms started getting sweaty against the steering wheel as his mind quickly cycled through some excuses he could text her on why he was ten minutes early.

 _Hey, sorry I'm stupid early. I'm just shit at time management. No rush, come out when you're ready._

But Helga would see right through that excuse because he _wasn't_ shit at time management and she knew that better than anyone. Even Gerald.

Arnold sighed and tried to think of another excuse, one closer to the truth.

 _Hey, I'm here. I'm sorry I'm stupid early but Gerald and Phoebe kicked me out. No rush. Come out whenever._

That could work, as _long_ as she didn't ask for the _actual_ reason when she got into the car. He could probably get away with lying over text message but he knew he wouldn't be able to lie to save his life face to face.

And Helga could _always_ tell when he was lying.

Maybe he could drive around the block a couple more times and waste time….

….and gas.

Fuck, maybe he was overthinking this?

A harsh ringtone cut through his inner monologue, causing Arnold's heart to drop into his stomach.

 _He knew_ all too well whothat ringtone belonged to.

 _She's the prom queen, I'm in the marching band_

 _She's a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands_

 _She gets the top bunk, I'm sleeping on the floor_

 _She's Miss America, and I'm just the girl next door_

He kept his left hand on the steering wheel as his right quickly fished his phone out of the front pocket of his jeans, momentarily looking down to see the name **Helga Pataki** across his lock screen.

Fuck.

 _She's probably calling to cancel. Grand, just grand. Just take a deep breath and_ _ **be**_ _cool._

He could almost hear Gerald laughing at him.

Arnold swiped right on the the screen, cutting off as the ringtone started up again.

"Hello?" He answered, slowing down to prepare to stop as the traffic light ahead turned yellow.

Her apartment was only a couple blocks away now. If she did cancel, he could just keep driving or play it off like it was no big deal and he had _just_ left.

"Hey," Helga replied, her voice coming across as slightly breathless, the sound of rustling could be heard in the background.

He could easily imagine her frantically running around the small apartment or her bedroom in her comfort clothes. Not yet

"Have you left yet?"

 _Straight to the point._

He bit his lip, wincing in pain as it was still sore from this afternoon, as he sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, his left elbow resting against the window.

"Yeah, I'm actually almost to your apartment. I ended up leaving a bit too early."

He held his breath in anticipation at her response.

"Excellent!" Helga said through the phone, the shuffling previously heard in the background stilling.

"Excellent?" Arnold parroted, his tone mixed with confusion and skepticism.

"Yeah, I got done with everything sooner than anticipated, so I was calling to see if you could pick me up sooner. But since you're already almost here, I'll meet you out front, alright?

He had to bite his lip to stop the huge smile that was forming.

"See you soon, Pataki."

* * *

True to her word, when Arnold pulled up in front of Helga's apartment, she was waiting out front, leaning against a brick wall. Her silhouette was illuminated by a sole street lamp, her attention on her phone.

Her right hand was holding her phone, her left forefinger occasionally scrolling up on the screen, probably reading an article of sorts. Her right pointer knuckle was pressed against her mouth.

Arnold took a second to study her.

Helga was dressed casually in a plain light pink shirt with the front tucked into her dark blue-wash skinny jeans. She had on a light gray sweater that stopped around her hips with light brown patches on the elbow, the sleeves pushed up to above her elbows.

All topped off with white Converse.

Her long blonde hair was hanging down, resting against her back, the ends slightly curled. But not in the way that looked like she had spent hours in front of a mirror with a curling iron, but the kind that hair gets when it's been air drying from a shower or being caught in the rain.

Arnold bit his lip to calm his nerves before honking, throwing his head back in laughter at the way Helga had jumped, head whipping up to glare in the direction of whoever had honked.

She squinted into the dark, realizing it was him and smiled, sliding her phone into her back pocket before slowly walking over.

All at once, Arnold suddenly became very self conscious about his attire. _Was it good enough?_ He looked down at his worn teal t-shirt underneath his red, orange and blue mixed button down.

The sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, his favorite black Converse tucked neatly under the hem of his favorite faded worn blue jeans. His grandpa's light brown watch resting tightly on his right wrist.

He looked casual, but was it _too_ casual?

Arnold sighed, knowing it was far too late to go home and change. Running his hand through his hair, he unlocked the passenger door, watching as Helga opening it, illuminating the car in dim light before gracefully plopping down in the passenger seat.

"That was _so_ unnecessary," she laughed, slamming the door shut and plunging the car into darkness as she reached behind her to put on her seat belt.

Arnold's tongue came out to swipe against his bottom lip, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he mumbled to himself to _calm down._ He angled his body half towards her, his smile growing.

"Whatever you say, Helga," he laughed, the deep sound making her chest clench. "Whatever you say."

Helga smiled, looking away and trying to distract herself by reaching forward to fiddle with the radio. Arnold started to pull away from the curb, still smiling like an idiot and grateful for the cloak of darkness.

A new song was just starting on the radio, one he couldn't recognize from the beginning. But Helga recognized it almost immediately, gasping in delight as she turned to face him, her eyes wide with excitement.

It caused something in Arnold's stomach to flutter.

His eyes flickered over to watch her as she reached forward, her left hand stretching out to turn up the volume while her right pulled her hair over her right shoulder.

Helga looked over at him, her eyes shining with mischief and being carefree as her lips stretched into a smile that looked like it honestly hurt.

"Do you know this song?" She asked, her voice curious sounding, like they were two strangers meeting for the first time in a bar, making conversation about the loud music thumping in the background.

"I can't say I recognize it," Arnold said, looking forward again as he paused briefly, listening to the chorus, immediately recognizing it as Green Day's _Basket Case._

He smiled wide, reaching over to turn the volume up louder, not caring if it was 11 at night. He immediately singing along.

 _Sometimes I give myself the creeps_

 _Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me_

 _It all keeps adding up_

Helga laughed, a breathy laugh before joining in, closing her eyes and singing as if this were _her_ song and she was passionately performing on a stage in front of millions of people instead of in a beat-up car with only one person.

Arnold noticed the light turning green, easing off the break as he stopped singing and fondly just watched her instead.

 _I think I'm cracking up_

 _Am I just paranoid?_

 _Or am I just stoned?_

Helga's strong voice competed with Billie Joe Armstrong's deep voice, putting the poor man to shame with his own song.

She was caught up in her own little world and Arnold couldn't help but imagine how going on road trips in the summer with all the windows rolled down, her hair flowing in the wind as they sang along to songs blaring on the radio.

He slowed down at a yellow light that started turning red, he could see the movie theater coming up on their right. He turned to look at Helga, smiling as he watched her continue singing, her head thrown back in contentment.

 _Grasping to control_

 _So I better hold on_

Arnold threw his head back with laughter as she started mimicking the guitar solo, her head and hair whipping around, the ends hitting and stinging her cheeks. She didn't have a care in the world as she opened her eyes.

She smiled as she caught him staring, a beautiful smile that made him want to lean in and kiss her right then and there.

In traffic.

At 11:05 PM.

Helga's eyes sparkled as she sang the final few lines.

 _Sometimes I give myself the creeps  
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me  
It all keeps adding up  
I think I'm cracking up  
Am I just paranoid?  
Or am I just stoned?_

As the last few notes echoed throughout the car, she leaned back, her lips curling into a smile as she rested her head against the headrest with a small thud, her eyes closing.

Helga couldn't help wanting to show off a bit, she enjoyed the feeling of Arnold's eyes on her, watching her every move. Or the feeling of happiness bubbling in her stomach.

 _Maybe he'll make a move tonight._

Helga quickly tried to push that thought from her mind, reminding herself to have fun and just enjoy the night and whatever happens.

Arnold turning towards the light, biting his lip as he eased off the break and put on his blinker and eased into the theater parking lot. Finding a parking spot up front.

 _How in the hell am I going to make it through the rest of the night when I already want to kiss you?_

* * *

"Do you think this movie will be any good?" Helga asked, leaning forward from behind Arnold in line to rest her chin against his right shoulder as they stood in line for tickets.

"The last 37 movies had the same plot line but different "unique" ways of killing the characters. So, define good?" He joked back, turning to look at her the best he could while trying to stay calm.

The line started to move forward so she pulled back, humming to herself as she raked her fingers through her hair. "Fair."

Arnold turned to look back at her, this time easier with her not on his shoulder, and smirked. They were next in line.

"Two tickets to Evil Twin 38, please," he asked the teen boy behind the glass who couldn't have been older than 16.

"$10.50," the boy, whose name tag read _Blake_ said, his voice bored sounding. Luckily Arnold had anticipated Helga trying to beat him to paying when she figured out his plan and had handed Blake cash, telling him to keep the change.

He grabbed the tickets, not checking to see if Helga was behind him as he walked over to the concession stand line. When Helga moved to stand beside him, he ignored her questioning gaze, keeping his eyes focused ahead of him.

Arnold jumped a bit, gasping as she leaned in to whisper into his ear, her breath tickling him. "I could have paid for my own ticket."

It wasn't an accusatory tone, just confused sounding. He turned to face her, one side of his lip curling into a smirk."I know. So, what are you thinking for concessions?"

Helga paused, sighing at how he had glossed over the topic before turning to check out the menu. She was going to answer before she got an idea, changing her look into one of panic.

"My keys! I must have left them in your car. They have my movie card on it!" She turned to face him, holding out her right hand expectantly. "May I have your keys to check the…."

Helga didn't get a chance to finish as Arnold was already jogging out of the theater and back to the Packard.

"Too easy," she smirked, shaking her head as she stepped up to the counter to order.

When Arnold had got back, sans Helga's keys, he saw said blonde sitting on a bench with a large RootBeer and an extra large popcorn with butter. He slowed his pace, pocketing his keys and raising his eyebrows as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his left shoulder against the pillar by the bench.

"Ah, so your keys were just a ploy so I couldn't buy your snacks either. Very sneaky, Pataki." He just smiled as she stuck out her tongue playfully. "Alright, just give me a sec to buy my concessions and we'll…."

Arnold was cut off by her pulling out a box of Junior Mints, M&M's, and a bag of Twizzlers.

"Gotcha covered," Helga winked, moving to stand up as they started walking towards theater 24. "I got us a RootBeer to share and layered the butter for the popcorn. Is that okay?"

Arnold nodded. He didn't think he would say anything, even if it wasn't.

* * *

Despite the red-headed woman screaming on the screen and the familiar sound of a chainsaw in the background, Arnold just couldn't focus on the damn movie.

The popcorn, mixed with M&M's, was sitting on the floor between their chairs. The other candy split between their tables, mostly gone.

But that wasn't why he was so distracted, no. It had to do with Helga resting her arm half on the armrest, her hand and fingers literally _dangling_ over the edge in front of him.

Arnold had been debating for the last half hour whether or not he should just go for it and try to hold her hand, but he didn't want to end up reading things wrong and royally mess up.

Again.

Yeah, the movie theater was empty, so no-one could or would witness his fuck up, but he wasn't in the mood for a quiet car-ride and weeks of awkward conversation and inevitably avoiding each other.

Things were going good, great even and he didn't want to fuck that up. Arnold sighed, running his fingers through his hair before looking sideways at the woman next to him.

Helga was reclined in her chair, her long legs stretched out and propped up on the back of the seat in front of her, watching the movie.

Arnold noticed she had pulled the sleeves of her sweater down but the sweater didn't look nearly warm enough.

He took a deep breath, leaning toward to unroll the sleeves before pulling the flannel off and handing it to her. She smiled, biting her lip as she put the flannel over her sweater, feeling instantly feeling warmer.

Arnold watched, smiling as he suddenly felt a bit braver, putting his right elbow slowly on the armrest, pausing to gauge her reaction. When she didn't look away from the movie, he put the rest of his arm on the armrest, leaving a small space between their arms.

He watched as a blonde haired woman ran screaming into the woods, stumbling over nothing before tripping over a tree branch and falling, turning over just in time to see the killer right behind her.

He rolled his eyes at the screen as his right hand dangle a few inches from hers, biting his lip as he psyched himself up to make his next move.

Arnold's breath stilled when her arm moved, waiting to see if she would pull away when her pinky hesitantly brushed against his. He smiled, careful not to move too quickly as he slowly turned his hand so his palm was facing up, completely giving her the control and option to pull away if she wanted.

Helga bit her lip as she carefully moved her hand into his, immediately feeling warmth rush up her arm and spread through her body like a shot of adrenaline. He closed his fingers loosely around hers, squeezing slightly, both too lost in their moment to pay attention to the bold man trying to wrestle the knife away from the killer.

Arnold looked over at Helga again, smiling as he briefly wondered if she would pull away when the movie ended and the lights came back on.

He shook his head and gave her hand a small squeeze.

"God, that was more awful than I had expected," Helga laughed, shaking her head as the end credits rolled across the screen. "You would think after 37 movies, they would either stop or get their shit together, right?"

Arnold laughed, his thumb rubbing soothing patterns against her soft skin as he shook his head. "Apparently not. But I already _knew_ this movie was going to be awful. You're the one whose expectations were too high."

Helga shook her head, laughing as she slumped further against the back of the chair. "Yeah, that was my bad."

They sat in comfortable silence, watching as the credits end as a teaser for Evil Twin 39 popped up. They rolled their eyes, hoping it was a joke.

Helga was the one to stand up first, breaking their joined hands as she reached up to stretch both arms over her head and lean back.

Arnold's eyes roved over her body, his thoughts, body, and face becoming heated as he remembered images of her only in a towel and her back arching in his bed.

"Stop checking me out, you perv," Helga called out playfully, her eyes closed but a playful smirk on her full lips. It was the first time he realized she was wearing lip-gloss of some sort.

"Can't help it. You're beautiful…." Arnold automatically replied, cringing and closing his eyes in distaste at how forward and flirty he sounded. He slowly opened his eyes to meet Helga's gaze, watching as her cheeks filled with blush and her eyes and smile turned bashful.

"You're not too bad looking yourself," Helga winked, biting her lip as she reached down to grab the popcorn from the floor. "For a Football Head," she finished, laughing in delight as she rushed out of the row and down the stairs.

She looked behind her, squealing gleefully as he gave chase, grabbing the remaining snacks and taking the stairs two at a time. He caught her at the door, dropping the snacks as he wrapped his arms around her waist, turning to trap her against the wall.

"Got you," Arnold said, huffing slightly as his hands slid up the familiar path from her waist to brace against each side of her head. She only smiled back at him.

Damn, he really wanted to kiss her.

* * *

"I can't believe it's already 1:30," Arnold said, checking his watch before running his left hand through his hair as they walked hand in hand through the empty theater lobby.

"Yeah," Helga said, trying to get the thought of wanting to kiss him out of her head.

"Can I admit something?" Arnold asked, walking into the vestibule of the movie theater before pulling on her hand to stop her from walking outside.

"You're... actually a serial killer and I'm your next victim?" Helga jokes. Biting her lips as she watched him shake his head and smile.

"I kinda _really_ don't want this night to end," Arnold whispered, tugging on her hand to pull her close.

Helga smiled, started walking towards the Packard. "I'm hungry?" she offered, smiling.

"Are you _really_? We ate most of the popcorn and all of the snacks." Arnold was being careful, he didn't want to push her if she was just being nice…. "We can always just…."

" _Okay_ , you _caught_ me. I'm not really hungry but I don't wanna go home just yet. I miss…." Helga wanted to say _I miss you_ , but she didn't want to make this weird. They had really done things _really_ out of order. Hugely out of order and they were just now fixing things.

"How about a milkshake?" Arnold asked, letting her off the hook like she did for him. He opened the passenger door, squeezing her hand as he waited for her answer.

"Yes," Helga said, smiling as he closed her door.

* * *

"I _told_ Sid it was a bad idea," Arnold laughed, leaning back against the booth, mid way through telling Helga about the time he had to rescue Sid from a _really_ bad date.

"But he didn't believe me. Sid's date ended up being allergic and we had to _drive_ her to the emergency room. Needless to say, he did _not_ get a second date." He felt warmth radiating through his entire body as he watched her head fall back with laughter.

Helga swirled the straw in the chocolate shake, completely on the house thanks to Al. Both blondes had ignored, with blushing cheeks, the knowing wink and twinkle in Al's eyes. They walked to a booth in the back corner, grateful that BIGAL was open 24 hours.

"I don't know," Helga said, in-between laughs and sips of chocolate shake. Arnold really thought she had the prettiest laugh and he wish he could hear it more. "I would have totally gone on another date with the poor guy. Given the guy a chance to redeem himself."

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised skeptically as her lips curled into that familiar smirk.

"If it were anybody _but_ Sid," Helga fixed her statement, laughing as she took another long sip of shake.

The two blondes sat in silence, Arnold leaning forward to take a drink of the shake before checking the time. It was 4. AM. They had been sitting in the booth, talking and laughing for two and a half hours.

Helga's left foot was propped up on his bench, his right hand crossed over his lap and rubbing her ankle bone. He wanted to continue talking, into the early hours of the morning as regulars came in for their morning breakfast, coffee, and gossip.

But he was _exhausted_ and still had to drive her back to her apartment and himself home. "I _hate_ to be a party pooper," Arnold squeezed her ankle, loving the way her eyes brightened ever so slightly.

"But it's four and I _really_ need sleep." _If I asked you to come home with me, what would you say?_

Arnold yawned, reaching both arms up to stretch before his right hand went back to her ankle, his left laying across the back of the bench. "Yeah, I was going to say something a few hours ago but I'm having _way_ too much fun."

Helga pulled out her wallet to leave a tip, Arnold once again beating her to it, when he scooted out of the bench, holding out her hand to help her up.

She accepted, smiling as he laced their fingers, saying goodbye to Al, and once again ignoring the knowing gleam in Al's eyes and the smirk on his lips.

The car ride home was pretty quiet, the radio playing lowly as Helga leaned over to rest her head against his shoulder, smiling down at their intertwined hands resting on the bench before closing her eyes.

Her breathing became steady, Arnold looking over to find her dozed off, breathing steadily and looking so calm that he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Helga spazzed in her sleep, her lips curling into smile but ultimately not waking up.

He pulled up to the front of her building, shaking his shoulder slightly to try and wake the sleeping blonde. He smiled fondly as she groaned slightly, shifting to make herself more comfortable against his shoulder.

Arnold tried again,"Helga, hey babe, we're here." He hoped she was either too drowsy or still asleep to hear his slip up, and if she did, she didn't say anything.

Helga wakes up, groggily as she looks around, seeing the brick wall of her apartment complex. She turns to face him, realizing she was super close, her ocean blue eyes shifting down to look at his lips.

"Thank you for today….er tonight," Helga mumbled, her hand squeezing his as she kissed his cheek, lingering for a second longer than necessary. "I had fun tonight. Thank you for buying the tickets and the shake."

She moved to get out of the car when he yanked on her hand softly, pulling her back to look at him. "When can I see you again?"

Arnold wasn't going to say anything. He was going to wait it out and let her make the first move, but he couldn't. Not after all the laughing, hand holding, her falling asleep on his shoulder and the kiss on his cheek.

God, he had missed her. A lot. She just smiled, shrugging as she got out of the car, turning to wave before closing the door and walking to her front door, unlocking it with her key before walking in.

Arnold was pulling up to the curb of his apartment when he got a new message from Helga.

 **H: Hopefully soon? Next time, I'm paying. Goodnight,** _ **babe**_ **;)**

 _Shit_. She had heard him

* * *

 **Songs:** In order.

 _Mr. Brightside_ \- The Killers.

 _Girl Next Door_ \- Saving Jane

 _Basket Case_ \- Green Day

A huge thank you to HappyLittlePsychopath for reading countless drafts of this chapter, editing, and brainstorming.

Also, a huge thank you to those who have commented, liked, favorited, and followed my story- I appreciate it so much!

Now, onto the author's note:

I feel like there is something missing from this chapter, I just don't know what or where. It's driving me mad crazy and I have been editing and editing for days trying to find it. I'm driving myself and my friends crazy and I thought it might be a better idea to just upload this and hope for the best.

IF you find something that's off or missing, please let me know- it might just be the very thing I'm looking for.

Thank you and hopefully will see you soon!


	23. Chapter 23

Bile bubbled violently in the back of James' throat, threatening to spill into his actions and words as his left hand clenched into a tight fist, shaking uncontrollably with rage. He wanted to scream. Scream until his lungs were empty of air and he felt that familiar, intense burning feeling expand in his chest and claw its way up his throat.

He reached up, jerking the fingers of his left hand roughly through his auburn hair before swinging his bare legs over the edge of the bed, the cold hardwood floor doing _nothing_ to cool down his scorching rage.

His body felt like it was on _fire_.

James _needed_ to calm down.

Taking a few deep breaths, he looked over his shoulder at Drake, the edge of his lips tugging into a fond smile at the sleeping blonde. Drake was laying on his side, facing towards James, the comforter pulled high against his ear.

He tentatively reached back to push a strand of stray hair out of Drake's face, freezing when the blonde reached up to swipe aimlessly at his nose, his face scrunching up slightly.

He watched Drake's face smooth out again, his hand disappearing under the comforter. James felt his body radiate with a fresh wave of anger, his outstretched hand dropping to the comforter and clenching and unclenching into a tight fist.

If it were _any_ other time, _any other night_ , James would have thought his actions were adorable, even pulling him closer against his chest and nuzzling his face against the back of Drake's neck. But the news with Wolfgang, mixed with the heavy strain and _anxiety_ this whole fucking mess would inevitably put on their relationship, had him wondering just how many moments together they had left.

He stood up, stomping out of the bedroom; slamming the bedroom door harder than he had meant to and probably waking Drake up in the process.

Fuming with rage, James paced around the small living room, his right hand tightly squeezing his phone, the keypad giving a complaining beep.

His attacker, _no, he would not give Wolfgang that kind of power over him._ Wolfgang's freedom, and several people's safety, were in the hands of seven _strangers_.

If Wolfgang walked a free man, he would _act_ like he was _untouchable_. Nobody would be safe from his dark, soulless gaze. His yellowing, rotting teeth curling into a evil smile would be the last thing the victim saw as the toe of his boot dug deeper and deeper into their gut.

Breaking their ribs.

Pushing them closer to the brink of unconsciousness.

And possibly killing someone not as fortunate as James.

"James?" A low voice called from the doorway of the living room. It was heavy with sleep, but just alert enough to pull James out of his heated thoughts.

"Just," he let out an exasperated sigh, running the fingers of his left hand tiredly through his auburn hair, not turning around. "Go back to bed, Drake."

James listened for footsteps, either heading back to the bedroom or moving closer to him. He looked down at his screensaver, a picture of himself and Drake at Drake's 21st birthday. He sighed heavily, turning around to face Drake.

"Please. I'll be there in a bit, okay?" James said, his voice pleading as the anger and adrenaline quickly turned into exhaustion.

He watched Drake hesitate for just a second before nodding, knocking a hand once on the wooden doorframe. He didn't look back as he headed into the bedroom, the door closing softly behind him.

James sighed, knowing he would have to make things up to Drake. He looked down at his phone, unlocking it before pressing the contacts icon. She needed to hear the news from _him_ , not Officer Michaels, gossiping students, or the news.

He scrolled down to H's, finding her name and hitting call.

* * *

A hand shot out of the cocoon of blankets, fumbling blindly around the bedside table for the ringing phone, their voice muffled by the pillow as they answered.

"H...hello?"

There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by silence, before a familiar voice drifted carefully through the receiver.

"I'm…. _really_ sorry to wake you," Helga whispered before sighing heavily into the phone.

Arnold shot up in bed, now wide awake. "What's wrong?" He asked, not bothering to mask the panic in his voice as his eyes shifted to the clock on his bedside table, the glowing red numbers reading 3:10 AM.

"You were the first person I thought of calling," she rambled on, her voice sounding more and more angry at herself. "I know you have an early morning tomorrow...erm, later this morning but…."

Helga stopped, speaking and breathing altogether as if completely unsure what to do or say next.

"What's _wrong_?" Arnold repeated, his voice firm but calm. Or at least making it _sound_ like he was calm.

Both blondes knew he'd drive to wherever she was in a heartbeat, hell, he'd even _run_. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, running his left hand through his bed-head, making it worse.

"I just talked to James," Helga said slowly. "Wolfgang chose court."

Arnold closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. "That means-"

"There's a chance he could walk free," she finished, nodding against the phone as if he could see her.

"Son of a b-." A fresh wave of disgust coursed through Arnold, making his hand clench and unclench into a tight fist. He took a few steadying breathes, trying to calm himself down. He needed to be there for Helga.

"Are you okay? Do you need me?" He bit his lip, hoping she'd say yes.

"I'm…. actually outside your front door."

 _What?_

Arnold froze for a second before pushing off the bed and running out of his bedroom, trying to quickly navigate his way through the dark living room, hitting his knee on the edge of the coffee table in the process.

But he didn't stop. His knee throbbing as he reached the front door, ripping it open to find a soaked Helga sanding on the other side. Her back was to the door, her long blonde hair matted to the back of her light pink t-shirt.

Arnold didn't even know it was raining. He looked over towards the bay window in the living room, finding fat water droplets sliding down the glass.

His attention turned back to Helga when she turned around to face him, her phone still to her ear. He watched her eyes lazily taking in his shirtless upper body and messy bed head.

She thought he looked _absolutely_ sexy, biting her bottom lip as a shudder ran down her spine.

Arnold immediately reached out to her hips and pulled her into his warm chest, mistaking the shudder as her being cold. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, despite her mumbling something about "getting him soaked".

They stood like that for a second before Helga felt too warm, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

"I'm sorry for showing up unannounced," she mumbled, the warmth of his body and arms a nice contrast against her soaked through thin t-shirt and shorts.

"I was on the phone, talking to James when I decided to take a walk. It started raining and I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I ended up here…."

Helga was cut off by Arnold once again pulling her into his chest and walking backwards into the apartment, closing the door with his foot.

They stood in the living room for a second longer before he squeezed her and pulled away. Giving her body and thoughts a chance to calm down, she occupied herself with looking around the familiar apartment.

The place she _used_ to call home.

"Do you want a dry pair of pants and a shirt?" Arnold asked over his shoulder, already walking in the direction of his bedroom.

Helga didn't answer, already knowing he would grab her clothes regardless of her answer.

He appeared a few moments later, now dressed in a gray t-shirt, a red and black flannel button down along with his comfiest sweatpants clutched in his right fist.

"I think you still have a button down of mine," Arnold smirked, reaching out to hand over the dry clothes.

Helga shrugged innocently, knowing exactly what button down he was referring to. She accepted the clothes gratefully, brushing past him to walk to the bathroom.

He just smiled, shaking his head as he walked to the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and putting it on the stove to boil.

Helga leaned against the closed door, inhaling the familiar and safe scent before quickly changing, immediately feeling all of the worry and anger melt off her body as the soft cotton slid over her skin.

She hung her wet clothes over the shower to dry before exiting the bathroom, finding Arnold in the kitchen. She leaned against the doorframe, watching as Arnold prepared two cups of tea.

Almost as if this was the way things had been forever.

Helga smiled before quietly closing the distance, wrapping two arms around his waist and burying her face into his back.

"Thank you," she whispered, missing his fond smile.

* * *

"How is James?" Arnold asked, his fresh cup of hot tea resting on the floor against the couch, his right elbow propped on the back, his fist holding up his head. The rain continuing outside.

Helga bit her lip as she looked out the window, her left shoulder propped against the back of the couch, her body facing Arnold.

Her feet tucked were under her, her hands wrapped tightly around her mug, her blonde hair curling a little at the end from where it was drying wet.

She sighed, her eyes sliding to her phone on the coffee table, face down and on silent.

"He was….as to be expected," Helga whispered as she recalled the venom and rage that was practically pouring out of James' voice.

James was scared, they both were, that Wolfgang would walk, but James' anger was a lot more personal than hers.

She ran her hand through her blonde hair, leaning over to put her mug on the floor before mimicking Arnold's position.

"He's angry and confused. He hasn't been able to sleep since getting out of the hospital, not without medication and he's just in that stage."

Helga sighs again, dropping her forehead to rest on her bicep, no doubt exhausted from everything that has happened tonight.

Arnold's hand twitched, wanting to reach out and pull her into him, but he remained on his side of the couch, just watching as the blonde crumpled herself into a pile.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. He didn't know the right thing to do or say, or how to make himself believe that it was going to be alright.

He had no clue if the jury was going to see Wolfgang for the monster he was or if the defendant would play dirty and bring up Wolfgang's toxic upbringing and environment.

Arnold looked back at the blonde woman, her long blonde hair covering her face as she curled herself into a tighter ball. He reached out to put his hand on her knee, watching her stiffen for a few seconds before looking at him through her hair.

"Come here," he whispers, pulling her to him, feeling as she lets herself be dragged across the couch and into his chest. He opened his legs so his right is rested against the back of the couch and his left is planted firmly on the floor.

His hands rub soothing patterns against the fabric of the flannel and he could feel how exhausted she actually was.

Helga buried her face further into his t-shirt, much like she did back in the kitchen. She could feel her body relaxing, every emotion melting away except exhaustion.

"I know things will work out, I'm just so…." She hesitated, unsure what word would accurately describe everything she was feeling.

"I know," Arnold whispered, squeezing her tighter like he did completely understand. They fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the rain dance against the windows, his hands rubbing soothing patterns against her back until she fell asleep.

"I know."

* * *

News of Wolfgang's decision spread quickly through the small town and even quicker around the smaller campus.

James clenched his jaw in frustration, his hands tightening into fists as he walked down the hall, trying to ignore the pity glances and not so quiet whispers.

He ran his fingers through his auburn hair, picking up his pace when he heard a group of freshman girls whisper how _it was a pity he was gay. He's cute and it's_ _ **always**_ _the cute ones._

James reached the top steps of the Philosophy building, leaning heavily against a pillar as he tried to figure out how he was going to make it through the rest of the day.

He momentarily thought about calling Drake and having him pick him up, the ten minute walk back to the apartment feeling too far. He just wanted to be away from _everything_ _and everyone_ right now.

"James?" A voice called, one he didn't immediately recognize. His shoulders tensed in preparation to tell him or her where they could shove their curiosity.

"What." James said, turning around to meet emerald eyes and a kind smile. He sighed, running his hand through his auburn hair. "I'm sorry, Arnold. It's been one hell of a day."

He tried to smile but it came off as more of a grimace.

"What can I help you with, Shortman?"

James' voice sounded humorous, like it did on the day they first met in the pouring rain, but Arnold could hear the deep undertones of stress and frustration.

"I had been looking around campus all morning for you," Arnold started, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck.

"That's sweet, but I have a boyfriend," James teased, crossing his arms over his chest as his lips curled into that smile that looked too big for his face.

Arnold just shook his head, his own lips twitching into a smile of their own.

"Damn, thanks for shooting down _that_ dream. But I just wanted to apologize," Arnold finished, fiddling with his green backpack strap.

"For the Wolfgang news?" James asked slowly, trying not to ruin their good mood but not wanting to talk about _him_ with one more goddamn person.

"No," Arnold sighed, everything he had practiced all morning evaporating from his brain.

"For being such an ass when we first met." He ran his hand through his hair and James could immediately see why Helga preferred his hair that way.

Arnold could _definitely_ do messy and do it well.

"I didn't knowyou but I immediately became super defensive of Helga, played the macho card, assumed your motives, _and_ jumped down your throat.

I had meant to apologize sooner, like a _lot_ sooner but then everything happened and…." Arnold paused, remembering how drained Helga had gotten and how the whisperings around campus probably wasn't helping.

"I'm sorry, man. I was hoping we can start over and be friends, or at least cool?" He holds out a hand for James, to which the auburn man just looked at with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"I'll forgive you," James started, his voice slow and his lips curling into another smirk. " _If_ you can tell me why you were so _jealous_ and decided to play the macho card in the first place?"

"I wasn't jealous," Arnold instantly replied, his ears burning bright red. "I just wanted to make sure Helga was…"

"How _badly_ do you want to be forgiven, Arnold?" James interrupted, feeling light and happy for the first time that day. He had already forgiven the blonde, as he knows first hand that love makes one do crazy things; but he didn't have to tell Arnold that.

Not yet.

"I don't know what you're _implying_ James," Arnold said back, his cheeks and neck filling with a red hue as he kicked the pavement with the toe of his Converse.

"Let me tell you what _I_ 'm _implying_ ," James said.

" _I_ think you and Ms. Pataki have something between you two, something _stronger_ than just the run of the mill sexual tension.

 _I_ think you were _jealous_ that you saw her talking to another, in your mind _single_ guy, and got defensive.

 _I_ think you and her have feelings for each other that are more complex than you're letting on. What do you think? Am I _close_?"

 _Spot fucking on_.

 _How in the fuck did he figure out in minutes what it took Arnold months to figure out._

"Something like that," Arnold hummed, stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his jeans.

* * *

Hi,

So, it's been a while since I've updated and I'm _really_ sorry. This chapter was extremely difficult for me to write because I wanted to have the right amount of emotions for the characters and the story to progress.

Also, WE'RE GETTING CLOSER TO THE END! Whoop!

A huge shout out to all of my friends who have read, edited, been a soundboard, listened to me whine, and re-edited over the course of the month writing this chapter.

The next one will hopefully be up sooner than this, thank you so much for your patience, likes, comments, follows, and favorites!

Until next time!


	24. Chapter 24

Anger and exhaustion coursed through Arnold's body, both emotions strong and vying for complete emotional, mental, and physical control.

Bile bubbled against the back of his throat, creating a burning sensation as it threatened to spill over into actions.

The heel of his palms pressed hard against the fabric of his black dress pants, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking as his emerald eyes shifted to a more sinister shade of green.

Arnold's eyes burned holes into the back of Wolfgang's suit jacket, his hands clenching into a tight fist, his dull nails digging crescent shapes into the soft skin of his palm.

He could feel his anger rising, pounding loudly in his ears. He really needed to calm down before he ended up repeatedly slamming Wolfgang's face against the edge of the wooden table until he was begging for mercy.

You need to calm down.

Arnold took a few breaths, breathing in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth until he felt a little less….

Destructive.

His grandparents had always raised him with the strong belief that violence was never the answer. That there were infinite other ways to handle conflict.

But right now, he couldn't think of another solution.

Especially since he had spent weeks watching Drake and James struggle to overcome this stress and spent the nights holding Helga until she fell into a restless sleep pretzeled with him on his small living room couch.

It physically pained him to see how stressed she was, her beautiful eyes lined with dark circles and her shoulders stiff with invisible stacked weight.

It made him a little less willing to come up with a passive compromise.

Sue him.

Arnold looked to his left at the empty spot where Helga would sit after she was done testifying. Per her request, directly in front of Wolfgang.

He could feel the small smile tug at the corner of his lips as he imagined Wolfgang trying to get Helga's attention, constantly looking at her over his shoulder while her ocean blue eyes looked anywhere but at him.

Honestly, he couldn't wait to be able to put this all behind him, behind all of them, and to move on. With his relationship with Helga, with Drake, James and hopefully without Wolfgang.

To be able to fall asleep with Helga on the couch and it not be from exhaustion and stress of an upcoming trial. Or to be able to snuggle with her in bed without it being as comfort against the potential thought that Wolfgang walks free.

That the jury decides that Wolfgang is a monster and should be locked away.

No, you can't think like that. Think positive.

Arnold shook his head, clearing away the intrusive thoughts as his eyes wandered to Wolfgang, his jaw automatically clenching as he met Wolfgang's eyes.

Wolfgang was looking lazily over his shoulder, his lips in a cocky smirk, his eyes taking in Arnold's stiff appearance; clearly amused.

Arnold took in Wolfgang's related appearance, his posture radiating confidence and it made Arnold's stomach curl. Like Wolfgang knew something he didn't.

It just reminded Arnold that nothing was guaranteed.

Wolfgang gave a slight shake of his head, his smirk growing before turning back around, leaning in to whisper something to his lawyer.

The balding man simply nodded, not looking at Wolfgang or breaking concentration on his notes.

If only I could wipe that smug smirk off his face….

Arnold sighed; he really needed to take a walk, or just get out of the same room as Wolfgang. He stood up, mumbling something to Gerald about "taking a walk", before sliding out of his seat and walking up the aisle.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, clenching them into fists to stop his fists from shaking as he felt Wolfgang's eyes burn against his back.

Arnold could feel his smug smirk as he walked out the double doors, letting them slam shut behind him.

* * *

"How do you think this will go?" James asked, his voice low as he moved to sit on the edge of the concrete bench in the hall. His eyes remained glued to a spot on the floor.

Helga hesitated a second before answering, studying James. His black, thin tie was slightly crooked, his once slicked back auburn hair now looked borderline unruly, and he hadn't made eye contact with herself or Drake in the last half hour.

He had dark bags under his eyes, much like hers, and his shoulders were stiff and pulled up to his ears.

Helga sighed, knowing this conversation wasn't going to be a reassuring or happy one. "I have no clue," she answered, her voice trying to maintain an optimistic tone but she could hear the faint uncertainty.

"Nothing is guaranteed."

She watched as he nodded, lifting his hands to run through his hair before dropping them into his lap, nodding again.

Drake, who was sitting on the other side of James, watched carefully, his face filled with worry as he chewed at his bottom lip.

"Right," James said, his left leg vigorously bouncing as if trying to distract himself from the trial and the obvious rift forming between himself and Drake.

He pushed himself off the bench, already starting down the hall before talking over his shoulder to no-one in particular.

"I'm going to take a lap, or two. I'll be back soon."

Before Drake or Helga could say anything, he continued down the hall, the two blondes watching him silently.

When he turned the corner, Drake finally spoke up, his voice low and hesitant.

"James hasn't been sleeping at the apartment ever since the call." It sounded almost like a confession, something that was whispered in the cloak of night, under the sheets.

When everyone was asleep and there was no judgement.

"He's staying with his parents. He came home this morning to make coffee, grab extra clothes, and then was gone again.

I was still asleep so he left a note. It said that he was sorry and we'll talk later. He hasn't touched, texted, called, or looked at me since he heard the news."

Helga looked over at Drake, watching the man battle with feelings of confusion, hurt, emptiness, and uselessness.

"I'm afraid this is it," he whispered, sighing deeply as he looked down the hall. "That this is going to be the thing that break us.

I could see myself marrying James someday, but he's shutting me out and ...and I just feel so useless."

Helga nodded, sympathizing with Drake as she remembered all too well how shitty feeling useless is. Arnold had just found out that both of his parents were dead.

The news hit him hard and he had spent days locked in his room, shutting everyone out. Helga left him a sandwich for every meal, just shaking her head when it was still there in the evening.

It had taken months of just silently being there for him to let him slowly process everything for him to begin to heal.

And it was a slow process.

"Everyone handles stress and stressful situations differently," Helga starts, remembering how badly she had first handled the misunderstanding between Arnold and James.

"I know it's difficult, but give him some time and space. Be there for him but remember to live your life too.

Even when you're frustrated, remember that he's also frustrated and shutting down. That's when he'll start healing and will need you the most."

Drake looks up at Helga, his face processing her advice before he sighs, suddenly feeling the weight of emotional and mental exhaustion.

He never did sleep well without James.

"I'm going to find coffee," Drake said, standing and reaching up to stretch. "Want some?"

Helga shook her head, giving him a small smile before watching him head down the hall in the opposite direction of James.

"When did you get so good at giving advice?" A deep voice asked from behind Helga. She gasped, turning on her heel in surprise to face a smiling Arnold.

"Sorry," he said, his smile never leaving his face. He didn't look the least bit sorry. " I didn't mean to scare you. I just needed a breather."

Helga smiled, instantly feeling less exhausted and conflicted as she moved to the empty bench, nodding to the spot beside her.

Arnold sat down, leaving a small space between them.

"How are—-"

"Did you see Wolf…."

Both blondes stopped, breaking into a relaxed smile as for a moment, everything felt normal.

Almost.

"You first," Arnold said, leaning back against the wall, already having a guess at what she was going to ask. He held his breath, trying to stop the anger and shaking from rushing back.

"Thank you," Helga said, figuring it was best to not talk about Wolfgang right now since the next unknown amount of hours, and maybe days, would be all about him.

She looked down, concentrating on her folded hands instead of meeting Arnold's gaze.

"For?" He asked, wishing he could reach under her chin and see those beautiful ocean blue eyes. It was one of the many things he really liked about her.

"For all those nights you sacrificed sleep to comfort me. I know you couldn't have slept well on the small, cramped couch, pretzeled with me, but I really appreciate It.

More than you can possibly know."

Arnold smiles, feeling his cheeks and neck burn with blush as he nudged his shoulder with hers.

"So all this time, you were just using me for comfort and a good night's sleep? Rude."

Helga laughed, like genuinely laughed for the first time in weeks. And damn did it feel oddly freeing.

"You're not my first choice for sleeping on the couch with" she said between laughs, the skin by her eyes crinkling slightly.

"What about if you weren't sleeping on the couch?" Arnold asked, his voice teasing as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"I guess you'll have to be patient and find out," Helga laughed, pushing his shoulder gently. It felt good to be playful, to not have to be serious for a short amount of time.

Arnold shook his head, wondering if this was what contentment felt like. He bit his lip, the next words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Helga I—,"

His words were cut off as the courtroom doors burst open, revealing a nervous looking Gerald scanning the hallway before spotting Helga and Arnold.

"Hey guys," Gerald greeted, nodding to Helga as he stuffed his hands into his pocket, realizing as he potentially ruined a well deserved moment between the two blondes.

"The trial is about to start," he turned to face Arnold. "Phoebe sent me out to grab you."

"Annoying her already?" Helga asked Gerald, smiling as she stood up, waiting for Arnold to follow.

"More than you know, Pataki," Gerald answered, shaking his head before turning and walking back to the courtroom.

Arnold stood up, watched the doors close before turning on look at Helga, already starting down the hallway.

"I need to find James and Drake before the trial starts," she said, answering Arnold's unasked question. "I'll see you in there?"

"See you," Arnold said, watching her smile at him before turning to continue down the hall, her black heels clicking against the linoleum floor.

"Hey," he said, taking a few strides after her, catching her wrist to turn her around to face him.

"Everything will be okay. Gerald, Phobe, and I are right here. Remember that."

He gave her hand a small squeeze, leaning in to kiss her cheek before stuffing his hands into his pocket and walking back to the courtroom.

* * *

"We rest our case, your Honor."

Helga couldn't help her nose wrinkling in disgust and anger as she watched Wolfgang stepped down from the stand, his lips in a smile that could easily be mistaken for innocent.

But Helga knew that smile. It was smug and radiated confidence. In his mind, they had already won and he was already free.

She watched him wink at a few of the female jurors as he passed, stuffing his hands into his pant pockets and sitting down next to his lawyer.

Wolfgang lazily leaned back in the wooden chair, his elbows resting comfortably against the armrests.

Helga wanted to stand up and scream that Wolfgang had lied. That he painted himself out as a good guy who just happened to come across a stroke of bad luck.

He claimed to have "found" James in the back alley after he was beaten up. Going as far as to say the teeth marks were from when he had tried to help James.

"Who must have still been in survival mode and attacked him."

What absolute bullshit.

And it looked like some of the jurors were absolutely believing every second. By the second, the chance of Wolfgang walking free was growing.

Helga couldn't stop the anger that coursed through her, looking to her left to see James staring straight ahead, his hands clenched into fists on his thigh as his leg bounced vigorously.

He wasn't taking this well. At all.

"Let's take a fifteen minute recess," Judge Murray called, standing up and slipping the manilla folder under his arm before walking to the back room.

Helga remained seated, despite her friend standing up and stretching around her. She watched the jurors for a second, some continuing to write notes as others walked out of the room.

If only she were a fly on the wall….

"Hey," Arnold's voice broke through her thoughts. She turned to look up at him, surprised to see his hand stretched out to her.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Helga looked back at the jurors, letting her gaze drift to Wolfgang to him already staring at her. She felt her nose wrinkle in disgust.

"Okay."

She followed him out of the bench and up the aisle, taking a second to check him out. Damn, he looked good.

His usually unruly hair was slicked back, a crisp white button down pulled taut over his strong shoulders and broad chest.

The sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows, a dark red tie tucked under his collar. Helga bit her lip, her cheeks turning red, giving her completely away when Arnold turned around, giving her a playful wink.

He held the door for her, walking side by side down the hall in silence. Helga watched people check their phones, or chatting quietly with their friends, heads ducked close together.

"Are you doing alright?" Arnold asked, pulling her attention back to him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked beside her, their steps slow and leisurely.

"I'm….." Helga paused, knowing that he'd be able to tell she was lying.

She sighed, pulling the hair tie from her hair and letting it free fall down her back. She knew he could read her like a book and sometimes, she really hated it.

"I'm frustrated," Helga starts, moving to sit down on a bench, letting her hands grip the edge. "Some of the jurors are sympathizing with him and buying his bullshit.

There's a chance he walks free and he's back on the street tonight, getting drunk in celebration and searching for another person.

One who might not be as lucky as James or Drake."

Arnold leaned against the wall beside the bench, his arms crossed over his chest. "It's going to be okay," he said, his voice gentle.

He didn't know if he was trying to convince her or himself, but he just prayed that the justice system made the correct choice and saw through Wolfgang's smoke screen.

But nothing was guaranteed.

"This should have never gone to court," Helga said, her voice filled with frustration, exhaustion, and anger.

"He's lying and he's going to get away with it."

There wasn't much left, only closing arguments which might not even be enough to show everyone the monster Wolfgang was.

Is.

"I wholeheartedly agree," Arnold said, watching her experience so many conflicting emotions, her body heavy with stress and not being able to help her. It hurt him so much.

His mind flashed to earlier this morning:

Both blondes were sitting in the Packard, listening to the radio on low as they sipped their fresh coffees, waiting for James, Drake, Phoebe, and Gerald to arrive.

Arnold had offered to drive Helga to the courthouse, wanting to spend a few more hours of stress free time with her before the trial started.

He took a sip of his coffee, looking over at her and thinking just how beautiful she looked in her slick ponytail, crisp white blouse, and black pencil skirt.

He felt like something was missing, hesitating for just a second before putting his coffee in the holder and reaching into his pocket.

"Hey, I have something for you."

Arnold watched as ocean blue eyes looked at him with curiosity, excitement, and slight exhaustion. Her eyebrow raised in silent question.

"Trust me," he said, his lips curling into a smile.

"Should I though?" Helga asked, smiling as she leaned back against the car door.

"Please? Turn around, close your eyes, and move your hair."

Helga hesitated for a moment before closing her eyes and cautiously turning around, her hands gripping the coffee cup as support.

Arnold pulled out the small box with the necklace, realizing this wasn't the ideal time or place, but she needed to know she wasn't alone now more than ever.

Shaky hands unhooked the small gold clasp, taking a deep breath before letting the gold chain rest against her chest.

Helga gasped, her hand reaching up to brush her fingers against the small chain. She looked down, rubbing the small pink diamond that hung and contrasted perfectly against her white blouse.

"What is this?" Helga asked, her voice filled with amazement and confusion.

"A reminder that I'm always with you," Arnold said, letting his arm rest against the steering wheel as the other rested on the edge of her seat.

"That…"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as Helga lunged forward, her hands wrapping around his neck as she pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you."

"We should head back," Helga said, breaking Arnold's flashback, nodding towards the flow of people heading back in the direction of the courtroom.

"Alright," Arnold nodded, watching as she reached up to hold the diamond, her eyes watching the strangers slowly file in.

"You okay?" He asked, reaching out and squeezing her hand as she stood beside him.

"Yeah, all thanks to you."

* * *

An hour and a half.

After closing arguments, that's all it took for seven strangers to reach a verdict.

Arnold watched Helga as the jurors filed back in, watching the way her eyes flicked from the seven jurors to Wolfgang. Her eyes immediately finding the representative, a brunette woman holding a thick piece of paper in her hands.

His eyes turned to Wolfgang, leaning back in his chair, smiling at some of the female jurors. Arnold really wanted to knock that smirk off his face….

"Have you reached a verdict?" Judge Murray asked, leaning back in his chair, his pen balanced between two fingers of his right hand.

"We have, your Honor," the brunette said, her voice confident and clear. Arnold couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Judge Murray nodded, a sign for her to continue.

"We the jury, find the defendant, Wolfgang Jameson…."

Wolfgang smiled, waiting for the words "not guilty". The brunette's eyes drifted over the top of the paper for a second before she continued reading.

"Guilty."

* * *

Hello!

Wow, it's been a while since I've uploaded~whoops. Thank you to all of those who have stuck around during this months of static and thank you to those who read, comment, like, and subscribe. I really appreciate all of your support, more than you can possibly know.

A huge shoutout to HappyLittlePychopath for reading and being super patient during these last few months as I bounced idea and sent draft after draft after draft. Check her out if you're not already, she's AMAZING.

Also, a huge thank you to my friends who I've bugged so much with this chapter. You're amazing and I'm forever grateful and blessed to have you!

I'll hopefully see you much sooner than in three months! I hoped you've had great holidays for those who celebrate and a wonderful and safe summer!

Until next time!


	25. Chapter 25

"Are you okay?"

James flinched at the sudden sound of Drake's soft, yet questioning voice; his right shoulder flinching involuntarily as his nails dug deeper into the wood of the bench. He sighed, immediately scolding himself for the knee-jerk reaction, not having to look over at Drake to know his hand was frozen in recoil, looking at him cautiously like he was a pacing, caged animal.

And _maybe_ he was.

He ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair, ignoring Drake's intense gaze and loaded question as he glanced over at Wolfgang, using all of his pent-up emotions and energy to burn holes into the back of his suit jacket, right between the shoulder blades.

He watched intently, with fleeting satisfaction as Wolfgang sat motionless in his chair, uncharastically quiet and seemingly just as stunned by the verdict. The seconds ticked by as James waited for Wolfgang to react, to show everyone the angry, dangerous monster he _really_ was; but he only continued to stare blankly ahead.

 _What was he thinking? What was he planning? Did he already have a plan?_

As if Wolfgang could hear James' thoughts, he turned slowly to look over his shoulder, his cold eyes meeting James' green ones. He raised an eyebrow tauntingly, his lips curling into a smug smirk as he turned back, leaning down to whisper something briefly to his lawyer.

The short, balding man looked up excitedly, all too eager to comply as he nodded along, his pen flying across the yellow notepad. James could only guess that Wolfgang was giving step-by-step directions on how the man could redeem himself, who to call first, and information about his appeal.

He thought back to Drake's question: Was he okay?

No. Even with Wolfgang's back towards him, he could tell his ego was still very much in tact, as evidenced by the way he lazily leaned back in his chair, stretching his large arms over his head, almost as if he were bored.

"Yeah," James sighed, his voice unfamiliar and detached as he watched Wolfgang stand, nodding once to his lawyer before turning to meet a short, middle-aged, security guard; even smiling and winking at her as the metal handcuffs encircled his large wrists moments later.

He shook his head in disgust, turning away from Wolfgang to face Drake, his body and mind heavy with exhaustion and mixed emotions. "To your earlier question, I'm doing okay. Honestly, I feel _better_ after the verdict." He felt himself nodding, as if the emphasis and visual affirmation would make the constant cloud of hesitation and concern in Drake's sky blue eyes disappear.

James turned away, unable to take the look of pain, mixed with frustration, concern and pity any longer; he watched the guard tighten the cuffs around Wolfgang's wrist, smiling briefly as Wolfgang's face contorted into one of pain as the metal dug into his skin.

 _Good_.

The guard put one hand on Wolfgang's upper arm, attempting to lead him to a side door where the process of his identity being stripped and replaced with a number would soon begin. His name would soon be forgotten, and with it all power as he became just another number in a growing sea of monsters dressed in ugly, orange jumpsuits.

But even being handcuffed and heading to jail, Wolfgang's pride seemed to be incessant; swelling as he quickly left the guard behind, taking long, confident strides towards the door, past the judge and jury with his head held high.

"I'm _okay_ ," James emphasized, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned back against the bench. "Please stop looking at me like I'm not. _Please_."

Drake didn't say anything, shaking his head as he stood up, joining in on the conversation about getting lunch at a small coffee shop a few blocks down. James sighed, already missing the slight pressure of Drake's shoulder against his.

"James, you in?" Phoebe asked, her voice clear of anything but question about the coffee shop as James looked up at her, momentarily grateful for the petite raven haired girl. He turned to look at the door, meeting Wolfgang's cold eyes before they disappeared.

"Sounds great."

* * *

James couldn't go home, _back to the apartment that he shared with Drake_ home, at least not yet. Even though their Queen sized bed and memory foam pillows called out his name, he quickly, if not enthusiastically agreed to go to the quaint little coffee shop.

He remembered the look Drake had given him, his eyes holding something he didn't quite recognize as his mouth went into a thin line. They held each other's eyes for a few seconds before the blonde man sighed and turned back to his conversation with Arnold.

He had caught Drake giving the same stare over his shoulder on the short walk over, as if he was trying to tell James something without actually saying it. James had to eventually look down, falling back and into light conversation with the girls about Phoebe's wedding plans.

Despite being absolutely drained, mentally, physically, _and_ emotionally, James _knew_ the _moment_ they got home, the moment they stepped through the front door, they could no longer pretend that everything between them was normal, that everything was _okay_.

 _God_ , how long had it been since James could look Drake in the eye without his stomach dropping or reliving that night? How long had it been since James felt anything but anger?

How long had it been since Drake had looked at James with love instead of pity mixed with concern and frustration?

"What are you having, Sweetheart?"

James looked up, blinking as he met the friendly, smiling face of a red-headed, middle-aged waitress. Her gold name tag read **Betty** , a button with the number 45 years of service in curly, cursive pinned on her collar.

"Coffee, please. Black." His mouth had ordered before his brain could send the command for his normal sweet coffee; two creamers and three sugars. But today, he craved the bitter taste of black, regular coffee, maybe because it was a taste of his future reality; bitter.

"Thanks." he grabbed the menu, that he hadn't even bothered to look at, and handed it to the waitress, ignoring the glances from around the booth.

Everyone had gone back to their conversations, James was ready to go back to people watching out the big, window when Helga leaned forward, her eyes worried and searching. "How are you?"

Her voice was calm, level but her body language gave away feelings of anxiousness, concern, and exhaustion.

"I'm good," James answered, reaching out to cover her hand, barely feeling the contact as he smiled, as if _that_ would prevent her from seeing through his paper thin act. He hated it, but sometimes she knew him better than he knew himself.

He sighed, trying an answer that was a little closer to the truth. "I'm really, really tired, but I'm okay."

She seemed to accept this answer a little better as she leaned back, sharing a small glance with Arnold before joining back in a conversation with Lila. James felt his body relax against the slick material of the booth, letting his guard down for the first time in _weeks_.

He even joined in conversation with Gerald and Arnold, joking about the Broncos' season and if they'll make it into the Superbowl. Before long, Betty appeared with drinks, setting down an empty mug and a full, hot pitcher of coffee in front of James.

She caught his eyes and smiled, her eyes studying him for a brief second before tucking the tray under her arm.

"Anything else I can grab for you?" She asked, her voice melodic, soothing, and James wanted to capture it and let wash over his exhausted, tired being.

There was a collective no as James poured himself a cup of coffee, inhaling the strong, familiar scent before wrapping his hands around the base of the cup, letting it warm his palms for the time being. He picked up a conversation with Lila about clowns, and how they both hated them with a passion, finding himself laughing for the first time in _weeks_.

When Betty appeared balancing a tray with everyone's food, James was quickly reminded of how little time he had left of feeling normal. As everyone talked, around stuffed cheeks, he tuned out the idle conversation and turned to look out the window, watching as a couple walked by.

Their shoulders were pressed tightly together, her head was thrown back in laughter as his hands animatedly continued to aid in telling his story/joke

James felt a pang of jealousy as he watched the woman lean over to rest her head against his shoulder, her hand snaking around his upper arm, reminding him just how carefree and simple things used to be, in his life, with Drake; before this whole fucking mess with Wolfgang happened.

He sighed, lifting the rim of his coffee cup to his lips, taking a long, slow sip before setting the cup back on the table.

Fuck you, Wolfgang.

* * *

The door had barely closed, the keys hanging precariously off Drake's finger as he leaned back against the door to take off his shoes. James had every intention of walking into the kitchen, but turned, tugging at his tie uncomfortably.

Now wasn't the right time, that much was evident by how _normal_ everything felt, but the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"We need to talk."

James gripped the back of the loveseat, swallowing hard as he watched Drake freeze, looking up to meet his gaze, hunched over against the door, one foot still resting over bent knee.

"Okay…." Drake said slowly, dragging out the word, like there was a reluctant force that made it sound so casual, especially when the air felt anything but. Drake nodded, sighing as he pushed his hand through his hair and dropped his foot, standing up.

He dropped the keys on the little wooden table by the door, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the door. "Okay, let's talk."

James hesitated, all of his practice speech disappearing as he studied the growing bags under Drake's eyes and the sagged but guarded position; really taking in the mix of exhaustion, hesitation, and love blurred and tied together with apprehension.

He sighed. "I love you," pausing to take a deep breath, he ran his hands through his hair; at this point, he was going to be bald at the end of all of this. He hoped that starting out with that would soften the next blow that _might_ just shatter his heart and entire being.

"I love you, so damn much and I know that I haven't been there for you or proven it to you lately." He paused before delivering the final blow. "But this whole ordeal, this whole fucking _mess_ has left me feeling so broken, so unrecognizable, so _unfixable_.

Lately, there's so much anger coursing through my veins that when I see you, I'm transported back to that night in the alley. With me lying on the ground, bleeding and begging for death while you _try_ to pry Wolfgang off of me.

You risked your life for me, to get him to _stop,_ and all I can hear is myself wheezing, the edge of my vision going black as I beg for you to run away, but you didn't fucking listen. You _never_ fucking listen. You're so fucking stubborn and I could have _lost_ you.

All of my emotions feel misplaced, like I should feel everything and nothing at all, at the exact same time and it's confusing and frustrating and…" James took a second to breathe, his lungs hurting from his confession.

"And it feels like it's just creating more and more of a barrier. Between myself, the outside world, and you."

James felt dizzy but forced himself to continue.

"This person, who I am _right now_ isn't someone I recognize and it isn't the man you started dating. You are so amazing, you've been so supportive, patient, and kind. And everything else under the sun and I've just ...run away. Like a coward.

Like I'm 5 years old again, running to my parents to save me from this bad dream. I want you to stay, I want to _ask_ you to stay, but to do so is extremely and painfully selfish. So, this is me giving you an out. This is me holding no blame, anger or hostility if you decide to leave. I need to fight my own demons, to fight my own battles.

And I can't ask you to stay with me for that. I love you, so much but I lost that privilege the first night I walked out."

James' hands began to shake, his nose and eyes burning from the tell tale sign of tears. He felt pathetic, hating himself for breaking his own damn promise. He promised himself he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't make Drake feel any more pity for him, he didn't need it.

"That's not your decision," Drake said, his voice low and firm. James looked up in surprise to meet his gaze, noticing the intensity in his sky blue eyes. "You _only_ get to make decisions for you and what is best for you. I get to make decisions on what is best for me." He ran his hand through his hair, pushing off the door and taking a step towards James.

"Yes but…"

Drake interrupted James, shaking his head, taking another step towards him.

"You know what I think the most _selfish_ thing about your whole _confession_ was? It's that you _honestly_ thought you already knew my answer. Were you even going to let _me_ decide? Or did you think I was going to _take_ your out, walk out that door, and that would be it? That after everything we've been through, I was going to just _leave_ you."

Drake's voice sounded more and more frustrated, raising slightly, his eyes glaring.

"Why _aren't_ you leaving?" James shot back, his words like venom as he felt adrenaline course through his veins, feeling alive.

His hands moved to loosen his thin black tie more, feeling like he was suffocating as he waited for the answer.

"Why _would_ I leave?" Drake answered, rubbing his temples in frustration, popping open the top two buttons of his crisp shirt. "Do you really think that little of me? That I would _actually_ fuckingleave you?"

James closed the distance between them, poking his finger into Drake's chest with every word. "You're _supposed_ to leave, to walk away from toxicity. I'm _broken_. This isn't what you signed up for, so why don't you _just leave_?"

The final poke caused something to snap in Drake, grabbing James' wrist, his voice low and rough. "To whom?" Drake asked, holding eye contact. "To whom are you 'broken'?"

"Myself," James answered immediately, trying to pull his wrist out of Drake's grasp. The blonde man wasn't hurting him, but he felt slightly trapped. Especially with the next sentence flying out of his mouth. "And to you, our families, and friends."

Drake's jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something unreadable. James felt his stomach drop.

 _This was it._

" _You_ are _not_ broken. You never were broken and you will _not_ say that again, do you understand me? You will _stop_ assuming that know what I'm thinking, how I'm feeling, and what move I'm going to make. Unless you ask me, you are not allowed to assume, do you understand?

You will let _me_ decide what's best for me and I will let you decide what's best for you. I will not make decisions for you and you will not make decisions for me. I love you, so much that it physically, emotionally, and mentally hurt me to see you go through _all_ of this fucking bullshit.

To see this hardened, unfamiliar version of you that was _needed_ to survive this god forsaken I refuse to let you self destruct and wallow in self pity. You walked away and I'm still here. I still love you and I still want to be with you, but I can only help you heal if you tell me what you need and what is best for you, without _assuming_ how I'm feeling or what I want/need."

Drake sighed, taking a step back and shaking his head. He needed to calm down, he was letting his pent up emotions take control. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking back at James, taking in his tense shoulders, clenched hands, and watering eyes.

"We don't need to come to a conclusion tonight, this isn't a time sensitive conversation. But the longer we keep tiptoeing around this, the harder the gap is going to be to close. Just keep that in mind, alright?"

James nodded, watching as the blonde man walked around him, giving him more than enough space before walking into the kitchen. He honestly needed a 25 hour continuous nap and an IV of coffee.

Drake stopped, talking over his shoulder, one hand resting on the wall.

"I love you, just remember that this decision doesn't just affect you. Okay?"

* * *

Guys,

I am so, so sorry about how long this chapter has taken me to write. I've written, re-written, edited, deleted, and started over countless times over the last four months. I've wanted the dialogue, interactions, and overall character moods to be just right, to fit the scene and be able to carry the characters forward- but sometimes it didn't work and I'd end up extremely frustrated. I wanted this chapter to be worth the wait, to find some closure with Wolfgang, although there is still more to come on that character development, and to finally have Drake and James talk- actually talk. I wanted their interaction to be normal, full of fear, insecurities, and love but more importantly, about what they both need, needed, and will need to progress and heal. As Drake said, "this decision doesn't just affect you."

I hope this lives up to the hype and wait.

A ENORMOUS shout out to Allison who has read, re-read, argued, edited, and bounced ideas around with me for the last four months, if it wasn't for her, and her dwindling, dwindling patience, I'm not entirely sure you guys would have a chapter by the end of the year.

As usual, a GIANT thank you to everyone who has read, commented, favorited, and followed this story. We're well past a year and it's slowly coming to a close. I am so grateful for every single person and all of your patience; you are amazing.

Hopefully the next chapter won't be four months in the making, but I promise nothing at this point.

With much love,

See you next time.


End file.
